#queerpoetrynet

[soulfulreverie]

bittersweet is the place where we rest our sore feet after dancing all night with a bottle of serotonin, oxytocin, endorphins, dopamine risky and raw on your cousin’s kitchen floor, a place where your hands find its way to the arch of my back,  with you whispering, “I can’t breathe”, only for me to catch you smiling. bittersweet is how  you tell me you admire everything about me in between inhales and exhales, sounding like a drunk person eager to have the next sip. bittersweet is when that bottle is empty and all that’s left of the bottles are wines and whiskeys and more nightcaps to sip out, what we both do not want to take away– like the night and the memories combined and the love that grew bitter and sour like the colors of wine. bittersweet is when you love me and i love you and we still couldn’t be together.

[theprocast]

Time danced in relentless motion,

and I watched as chance after chance after chance

slipped through my fingers.

Moments that could have been etched

In our shared history

were instead lost in the abyss of silence.

The words I have been wanting to say

but never have to courage to

remained locked within my soul,

stifling under the weight

of my own indecision and lack of faith.

Faith for what we could have been,

where our love could have gotten us,

and why we always find out our way

to each other's doorstep.

The unspoken truths echoed

in the depths of my being,

a constant reminder of the opportunities—

of you, of us that slipped away.

Regret paints its melancholic strokes

on the canvas of my heart,

for the road not taken will forever haunt me.

Yet, amidst the sorrow,

a flicker of hope remains,

whispering that perhaps, one day,

the universe will conspire

to reunite our paths and grant us

a second chance at the love we left behind.

[natalieweepoetry]

                            Church says, god is good. But she is best 

in your mouth. Lucifer is in hell because she loved her 

                        in a way that was not understood.

Natalie Wee, from ‘Jesus Takes Me to Bed’, Our Bodies & Other Fine Machines

[aesterismos]

soft girl is by efb | i’m not sure where this belongs. five short poems, five points of entry. dl chapbook for free or pay what you want here.

other works

[watercvlours]

these are the facts: i talked about fucking you in the backseat of my car before i was ever able to talk about loving you. that was easier. you send me paragraphs about moving in together and adopting cats. i reply half an hour later and change the subject before i do something stupid like throw my phone at the wall or forget how to breathe or tell you that the idea of something i can't pack up and leave with in the middle of the night scares the shit out of me.

CAITLIN ABIGAIL

[soulfulreverie]

One of the habits I came to learn over the years is the art of understanding when it's time to leave; to walk away from where I am not wanted. Yet, truth be told, this was no simple feat for me; I used to hold on tightly on things, unwilling to let go. But one day, I snapped out of it and realized that that is not what I deserve.

Then, we met...after years of waiting and missed opportunities. We met, and just like that, you became a hard habit to break. I know where we stand, you and me. So, tell me, how do I leave when I know I am wanted, I just am not the only one?

s.a., caffeine thoughts #3

[theprocast]

Would it really come—the day when my heart does not ache with the thought of you anymore?

s.a.,  of curiosity drenched in wine

[natalieweepoetry]

Church says, god is good. But she is best in your mouth.

Natalie Wee, from “Jesus Takes Me To Bed”, Our Bodies & Other Fine Machines

[aesterismos]

soft girl eats nails to become iron soft girl swallows water & swallows & swallows soft girl rusts from the inside out soft girl wants to be stainless steal soft girl hopes to bleed less & kiss more

efb | soft girl is prone to corrosion.