Content, a word that strikes my soul,
A whisper of stillness, an impossible goal.
It seems so small, yet feels so vast,
A memory of my past.

Perhaps it’s my youth, so restless, unkind,
An experience that shaped my mind.
Or is it the hunger to strive,
To chase the horizon and feel alive.

What if content is comfort’s face?
A quiet corner, a gentle space.
And yet I flinch—am I afraid,
Of the peace that comfort has made?

Is it the lie of stillness, so untrue,
The quiet, my mind can’t pursue?
A darkness woven deep inside,
Where comfort and fear collide.

Will I ever grant myself the grace,
To rest my soul, to find my place?
Or will I run, forever torn,
Chasing a dawn that will never be born?

I put my thoughts in compartments, your’s labeled,”Pink’s Ribbons.”
Where we were free, no worries or cares. Just you & me- running, falling, barbecuing, writing rhymes, drinking Coronas, smoking, laughing, until we couldn’t breath. Always getting a free pass from jail or VIP stat for just being us. We were wild cards aka “Dueces Wild.” We never gave a shit of what others did or thought. We always lived in our bubble of no hopes or dreams- dirty jeans, boots and a Newport hanging off of our lips while we spoke & drove on a whim of recklessness. Time has been good to us. I’ve grown to live in the moment, as you, even if the moment means picking up a pen & remembering our past in drafts. No one really knew us, for I only showed the club and you the heart- though we freely loved life- never pressured the future or over thought the past. We just lived- and everyday that we do, it’s so worth it. I show traces of white hair, a few lines on the edge of my lips reminding me how I always laughed, even throughout the toughest struggles. Reminding myself that I am a believer of noncoincidence & we come across people & situations in life for reasons unknown at the time until you reflect. Some part of me died throughout the years. The world looks so different today-in a positive light. Where my dimension has excelled to a different place spiritually. Who knew that growing from within meant enlightenment. This is my sweet spot. The place that I wish more of us could find. As we always knew we are the chosen ones. Star children with gifts we hid not to sound crazy to the “norm”. Who could I have possibly wanted shared with most-those/these moments. Only we know how we reached the depth of destruction only to be reborn and rise from our ashes, as you have always been my lucky star. Yesterday, today, tomorrow and forever~11/11💖 We both equal 18- the number of Life & Abundance. The life we continue to decifer & cherish until the depths of the universe-and that’s how much I love you. Deep to the nebulas in the galaxies of the Milkyway, the Andromeda & to the Whirlpool Galaxy~I’m so blessed to have you next to me in our universe~sharing I can’t give you or thank you enough for just being you in my life~
#PinksRibbon #ScorpioSisters

So she lived- she didn’t have a choice. It was a gift granted- although there were times in her life when she wanted to lay in the middle of the parkway or on her knees and pray.
It all depended on the day- the weather and the color of her lipstick.
Lately it’s been neutral – as everything she thought for 547 days never appealed-
She was duped for allowing someone in her heart…
“How” she asked herself- the promise to keep her wall up was broken at the sound of remorse -not from her lips but those of her distant lover- the one who saw prey and tried to ravage the Beast while she slept – She gave in. The truth was real. The honesty was from the heart but the storyline line and pity was one for the books, as she had never been that stupid to believe in someone else’s dream- Like- Who does that? The Fool!
Should have, would have and finally did with pain – not in her heart, but in her body. She walked away.
Her biggest fear is becoming cold- losing the innocence- not being able to find that place within her that makes her dance on the rainiest of days-
But she knew it was in her genetics – it was how she was bred.
Strength and wisdom come from silence.

This was written on July 12th, 2019. It was the day of my legal name change. I would wake up that morning as Greg and go to work, and that evening I would go to bed as Lillie. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous, not because I was unsure of myself but because I had socially transitioned only 5 weeks prior.
I spent 43 years as Greg, hiding who I was so far in the closet I was finding Christmas presents (Thanks for that line, Steph). I had no idea who Lillie was and I’m still learning who I am as a woman one year later. I was scared of the unknown and what my new role in this world would look like.
After I got home from the courthouse, with a smile on my face and tears of joy in my eyes I sat down and finished this letter. The end result you see here is nothing like my first drafts. As much as I wanted to (and sometimes still want to) hate the man I was, I have been told that I should show compassion for him. For he was doing the best he could while battling his internal turmoil in a world where women like me are seen as subhuman, he did his best to protect me. This is for you Gregory,

Dear Gregory,

There’s no amount of words that can ever truly express the pain that I’m sure you’ve felt these years. You’ve kept me locked up, quiet, ignored, and worst of all – shamed for even existing. You have taken far more abuse from my internal self than is fair, even more than we have had externally. Some people have it rough in life, and you’ve made sure you had your fair share with your own self neglect and self-destructive tendencies.
You haven’t been able to ever be yourself, because you’ve had to be a “boy” because of the way your body has been. I don’t know if it’s entirely how we were born, but there are clearly signs that we have been living behind a mask of being a man. We may never have those answers. I will, however, live our identity as I am, not as we have been told to. That means you have to have the space to grow up and become the woman that we were meant to be, not the man that society says we are.
You have given me plenty of skills to succeed in this life and I promise I will do my best to not disappoint you as you hand off the torch to me. You have given me 4 beautiful children that I would not trade for anything in this world. I want you to know you have done an amazing job surviving in this world that can be utterly unfair and cruel at times. You plugged away and dug your heels in the ground and never gave up even though I know you wanted to.
Despite everything you dealt with and everything you were battling internally you did your best to be a compassionate human being. You struggled sometimes with your 2 but you always managed to find your way through. Almost 2 years ago you started to finally listen to yourself and found me hiding inside of you and I want to thank you for that, I was starting to lose my voice. But you listened and let me start to come out. I know it has been a hell of a ride we’ve travelled, sometimes separately, sometimes together. Guess what? We made it. I’m proud to have had you in my life and I’m proud to have the strength you’ve given me to continue down this path of mine. Without you, without all your experiences in the world, this wouldn’t be possible. Thank you again Gregory, I promise I’ll take care of me now. I hope you will be proud while you watch me blossom into who we were meant to be.

Lillith

I wrote this to myself July 2nd of 2019. This was in the days leading up to my name change. My therapist had suggested some kind of ceremony, something to commemorate my name change. I had struggled with wanting to do something for this milestone in my life, I had socially transitioned 3 weeks prior, and I really wanted to celebrate my transition somehow. My days as Greg were numbered and I wanted closure on that chapter in my life. In the 2 years seeing my therapist exploring my gender I would ‘write’ in a diary on my phone and let my therapist read it at the beginning of each session and that would dictate how the session would go. I had shown an affinity for expressing myself through writing in the previous 2 years so writing me a letter from him to her was my assignment. This would be the very first of my essays about my transition and what we as transgender people go through.

Lillith,

Take a breath. Look down at your two feet. Where are they right now? Look around you. Do you see nature? Go touch the leaves. Pick a flower and deeply inhale its beautiful fragrance. Do you hear birds? Stop and take a moment to go listen to their music, because not everyone is so fortunate enough to be able to hear and enjoy that experience. Do you feel the sunshine on your skin? If not, go step outside and be grateful for the fact that it is constantly shining down on you, and that you are alive.
Life isn’t a sprint, it’s a long race and you’re not in it just to “win.” Be gentle with yourself. Be messy sometimes. Let it all go. Embrace all of your learnings and cherish your experiences because they truly are divinely fated.
No one lives forever so be sure to cherish every moment, and when they pass and when you pass, find comfort in knowing that we are simply souls within these bodies, and we will all be connected at some point again. Life is a gift, not something that is a given, so enjoy every second while you’re here. Make the most of it. Live it to your fullest and please, be true to yourself Lillie. You had a rough road to travel just to even exist. You are valid, you are real. It’s not a dream anymore. I’m handing over the keys to this vessel I’ve called home for so long. Now it’s your turn. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize this was your home and you were screaming to be let in. I know you’ll do great things, and I know you’re truly on your path to happiness now.
While I know you aren’t as experienced in the world, you are getting ready. Soon, I’ll leave full charge to you, because you are the only one who is truly deserving of this body. Even if it never matches how you feel some days, it will always be yours. I’m sorry for having contaminated it with the presence that was male. My stoic demeanor has been wearing us down, and while it has been partly to hide the pain, it’s just as much because of my embarrassment from having you inside. This is your body, not mine. I really hope that I didn’t screw it up too much for you. Wear what clothes you want, because you deserve to wear them. Be the woman you were destined to be. Don’t be defined by my mistakes.
Years ago, I prayed to anyone and anything that would listen for your happiness. On your road ahead please don’t lose hope. We were put here on this earth to feel joy and not be blue. There will be sad times and bad times, and I know that you have the strength to see them through. Look at how far you have come. Look at all you’ve accomplished. Hold your head high! Though I can’t know for sure how things will work out for you, no matter how hard it gets, please realize, please understand that you weren’t put on this earth to suffer and cry. We were made to be happy. So, for me…..for you….please….be happy.

Gregory

i have been shaken
By: Jim Kellogg
(The Queer Poet)
12-2-24
i have been shaken
by your trembling breath
slumbering in my arms
the melody it makes
when your heart is at ease
our bodies intertwined
our souls harmoniously dancing
the tune of unadulterated love
once in a lifetime magic
tears flow like nature’s uncontrollable fury
as i read this poem
i have been shaken

Rest in Peace Pipita

Like a precious bottle of Malbec~ from the vineyards of Argentina Vintage 1928.
Her hair is stunning red, roots deep brown with traces of white.
The lines on her face emphasized the years of laughter and tears. So many stories of the old Argentine neighborhood she speaks about~ I see these stories in her lines.
Her expressions are truth.

Her hands remind me of an atlas map
Tracing veins like blue rivers with finely detailed “lunars” (known in English as beauty marks) properly positioned.
The jewelry she is adorned in brightly shines
Even after so many years without polish
Her gentle smile reminds me of her youth and vibrancy

“I am not afraid” she recited to me once “When God calls for me, I will answer”

Her spirit makes life worth living.

Looking forward to old age.
With my heart and soul, I am a reflection of her.

She is my GRAND-Mother.

Bendicion~ 🙏

I sat on concrete pavement asking the stars to show me a sign~

Snow flakes melted on my lips~
Opened eyes
I knew he heard my chime
The wind was speaking to me~
“Child ~always be kind”

Visions of a natural divine- My Lord did hear my cries

I wanted to be held by thee
A force to teach me wise
My daddy a vague belief
My Father treats me kind
I fall in arms so thought to be something I long to know

Pandora reassures herself at midnight in full moon’s glow

Heavy footsteps led a life in vain
Heartless memories draw so much shame
As only I smile to feed the dreaming tree
“Daddy come quick” so gone in memory
I begged and plead that very night God took heed in the stars so bright
Though disbelieved the sacred wind
To trail the roots that polluted kin
Begged salvation for I reached the depth
To discover the dreaming tree subsists
Nourish it with heart plus soul
Two sprinkles of dreams and three of gold
A dash immortality and one of bold

The dreaming tree lives, the relics unfold

Those who did not believe that night
Heard the winds had predicted a crest moon and rain
When evil lied in rhythms of naked branches

The eclipse made the marked apologize in nodded shame

My dreaming tree had grown all this time
I knew,
I know,
I believe.

I gave my all (so spent) as dear you are to me
The forecast called for a sunshine horizon
Out on the torrent sea
The dreaming tree survives in you
May your daddy be thoughts in knotted ribbons of blue
Your Father will provide for you at times of despair.
My dreaming tree blossoms
I smell spring in the air~

Spring, not sprung.

People can look like they’re fine, but inside they’re crying.
Many are trying, too many dying, I’m flying on some parachute of prayers.
To the God’s who will listen. To the points of the cardinal directions.
I look up and no longer see Orion who has always been my protector.

My hands fall short of magic. My generosity exceeds in deeds, grateful to bless, but somehow not enough to me. I know life is unalome, never even keel- my path made me stronger, wounds have healed.
Although the deeper I dive, the pain becomes real. I deal. I’ve observed on every level, inhaled, exhaled and weighed it on the scales. It tips. Balance is off-
When the whole world is upside down and right side up, I still live in my bubble. When I’m lost, I retreat. No white flag, no olive branch, no phone calls, just me- in the corner with a pen and paper, crying. For everyone I’ve lost, for everyone I’ve ever loved and had to walk away from, for everyone who bears the weight on their shoulders but wakes up and smiles at the world, I am you.

Spring, but not sprung.

Let me feel the rain on my face as I know it waters the flowers that blossom in the spring.

I miss my family and friends who are in another realm. Let their energy protect mine. Allow me to shine like gold in a river on sunny day.

I need my magic or I am useless.

To the God’s~ Please protect us.

the clockmaker’s bride

they can’t go where i go,
they can’t see what i see,
they don’t know what i know,
that can’t be what i be//i believe i’ve been living for myself- i have been living for life.

knowledge that belongs to you will find you.
what’s yours will come to you.
the focus on the future blinds you from the opportunities you are surrounded with today.
you would not be in this space if you weren’t wanted.

so why do i feel like you’re trying to prove yourself? your worth?
what is there to earn//i have nothing to give
are you entitled to the approval of others//are you too ashamed of your experiences to approve of yourself?

is it your experiences that make you, you?
is it your beliefs that makes you, you?
is it your actions that makes you, you?
what is there in the world that you claim as the creation of others//i claim that which i create
i don’t know.
i have no clue to be entirely honest.
consider this: am i what you decide to call me, or am i what i say i am because i’ve decided to be?

in one way or another, existence supposes definition,
you are something to someone, even if that someone is the ground you walk on. the plant life you trample over with the careless entitlement to destroy.
are you going to allow yourself to be defined?

frankenstein’s monster. he does not have a name because his creator never gave him one. although he could decide to name himself and shape his own identity, he could never cut the ties that bind to his father. the bond is why you seek approval. the bond is why apathy is worse than disapproval; those who are not acknowledged are the ones that destroy. you need to be responsible for everything you create, whether it be art, technology, literature, or life.

never give your creations to the world to be defined by the world,
they will never deserve what you are.
in approval or disapproval, acknowledge what you’ve done.
thank accountability for it,
take ownership of it,
the way every influence in your life have taken ownership of you,
how they’ve taken care of you,
how they’ve hurt you,
remember how you felt,
remember the feeling,
some people have nothing to feel,
i implore you to be intentional in your interactions with others//be intentional about how you make them feel,
how you make yourself feel.
you may be the reason someone in this world is lonely,
remember how you’ve felt in the deepest chasm of your limitless,
to whom/what you wanted to take ownership of it,
your friends, your parents, your lover, yourself, your gods?
now think of who you are to others, a friend known for being reliable, a child known for being grateful, a lover known for making someone feel whole, a creation grateful for who’s grateful for being created?
privileged.
who are you to abandon what you’ve created.

“i know all about the pain that you go through” – Gustav Ahr

never take love lightly

remember that
the world you know today
could, and will shift in an instant

be courageous enough
to love so deeply
that you’ll go the extra mile
to create beautiful memories
with the people you cherish
and involve all of your senses
in being present with them

tell them that you love them
but don’t stop there
learn what to do for the ones
who’s lives matter most to you
seek what makes them feel loved
listen to what touches their hearts
and see them shine brighter
as you learn to speak
their language

start with giving yourself
all of that care
because if anyone deserves it
so do you
then spread that love around you

Dear Tracy Chapman:

You and I became friends early on in your career. Your unique voice and storytelling style drew me in. “Give Me One Reason” and “Fast Car” were on repeat on whatever device I was listening to at the time.

When I heard “Fast Car” for the first time I was hooked. Those lyrics were so down to earth and touched me in a way that made me believe I could do anything, and that there was no where to go but up.

Even over thirty-five years later, when I hear that song, I crank the volume up (I think I’ve blown a speaker or two listening to that song), and sing at the top of my voice. Your and my voice compliment each other. But certainly not in the same fashion as you and Luke Combs.

Tracy, when I heard you and Luke sing together at the Grammy’s it was simply magic. Watching Taylor Swift and Jelly Roll, singing along, knowing every word, was a tribute to how your lyrics and voice can transform even the biggest stars into your biggest fans. I’m a huge Luke Combs fan so the fact that you and he collaborated on that song was music to my ears.

One of the things I admire about you is that fame never went to your head. You have, and still do, maintain a private life outside your career. That’s hard to do in this day of social media, and everyone wants to know everything about everyone. You’re an anomaly. That’s very cool.

I like seeing you pop up occasionally. It reminds me of my younger years. Your songs touched my soul in a deep way, leaving me feeling hopeful about life’s possibilities.

For now, I’ll say see you later. Hopefully we’ll bump into each other again soon. In the meantime, I’ll be working in the convenience store, stop in some time. It’s just ‘cross the border and into the city.

The storm had finally arrived after brewing in a silent sea of delusion for far too long. The wind of truth blew fiercely against us all and the rain that fell endlessly were indeed our tears. The clouds drifted across an amber sky of clustered thoughts that hid the sunlight that day.
Yet still I held her to me.
I spoke of angels and good Soul food, whispered love and affirmations in her ear, and kissed her lips. Memories like morning dew covered and saturated my heart.
Yet still I held her to me.
Not knowing that she felt me or even knew who I was any longer because the time was at hand. Her breathing was shallow and yet the life she had lived spoke volumes throughout her transitioning. There was no more time for abandonment issues or thoughts of past transgressions; no space for generational strongholds to reinforce trauma bonding. For soon she would be gone, embraced by the light and Angels she adored. “Thank you” she had told me a mere few days ago as I cared for her, cleaning her and playing her favorite music. “I love you” she had said words that I thought I would never hear her say again after our estrangement.
Yet still I held her to me.
The embrace gave us both the closure that we needed and sought from each other. This day the hospice nurse comes to pull us out of the dark room “Give her space to transition” she said, “often loved ones won’t transition when being watched.” At the time, and in my grief, I thought that was odd of her to say. However when we went back into the room, I touched my mommy’s cooling skin and her stillness almost frightens me, yet it was then that I knew she was gone.
Yet still I held her to me.
Emotions too deep to express escaped us as we gathered around the shell that once housed her spirit. She had joined the ancestors that now danced in the wind beyond this realm. And as the years and time attempt to comfort us all in her absence, as she comes to visit us in dreams to hold dear with our memories, when moments too big for explanation are captured – my thoughts are of our last hug, when still I held her to me.