maelynslavik

Nestled within the plains of the Midwest,

Isolated and alone,

Stands a wholesome oak tree.

Her dark, chestnut body hemmed in by the mucky acorns, 

Those of which were shed out of sorrow.

Dear,

My heart

You have marks showing what I've done

You've seen things

No one wants to see

But you keep on beating

You're battered and bruised

You have scars

Caused by pain

By fear

Growing up when I was younger, I was raised in a very homophobic, transphobic family. I was taught that being anywhere on the LGBTQ spectrum was evil and would send you to hell.

Searing, frying, sautéing,
wiping sweat off my forehead,
crying because of onions
the things I do for a boy.
I hope he likes it.
The doorbell rings.
The door opens, he stands with a bouquet in his hands.

The love people have for each other is real. But what do you do when you are broken? Torn to pieces? Consult in Steve 'The Hair' Harrington. He'll tell you to grow some nice hair that stands up 5 feet and adopt 4 middle school children.

I hear the laughter. 

It echoes. 

It’s filled with happiness. 

It’s filled with a happiness that goes beyond words.