scraped knuckles, teeth clenched,
notes crinkled, piled up in the waste bin.
half-finished thoughts and ill-conceived poetry
lines circled then crossed out in runny ink,
a once gifted orator with mouth now devoid of the right words.
so easy to emanate kindness, yet so hard to reserve a little for yourself.
every day a battle, finding healthy outlets for anger and pain, healthy ways to feel good,
even if it’s only fleeting.
After all, if there’s one thing you’ll learn (again and again), it’s that nothing is permanent
except chasing light through the endless darkness,
shouting out after love and happiness.
Guest Spot: BiPositive
This week I had the opportunity to promote awareness and positivity on BiPositive, a podcast hosted by Mari and MD – two bi therapists from The Netherlands.
Click here to listen and download the episode.
You can find/subscribe to the show on Apple Podcasts or Soundcloud.
Guest Spot on Wed & Woke!
I recently had the pleasure of discussing poetry, activism, and life as a black bisexual millennial with Ryan Hollingsworth on their podcast, Wed & Woke. Listen and download the episode 
Love Letter
no longer waiting patiently for access,
all dressed up and gunning for it.
no longer craving attention,
all grown up and swimming in it.
years of bruised elbows and broken hearts to transcend to these heights,
bask in the glory of all this self-confidence.
dark skin and deep brown eyes, born in the fire,
quick wit, cold style, let it envelop the world.
kiss him in the streets of San Francisco, in alleways in New Orleans, on the beaches of Florida,
and hold back nothing.
two lessons, trite but true – not a thing can hurt you without your permission, and this life is what you make of it.
10/19
October is the salt on your lips, still stinging from our last kiss
Brighter than the final flash of light before sunset.
Open arms – in retrospect
say little, demand respect.
Cast as Caesar, then as Antony
righteous/wicked, passionate/weary.
Adventure and enduring love
all rolled into one.
October is the honey on your fingertips – lingering for a moment before you lick them clean.
It’s the death of innocence, of coveting the pristine.
It’s Fall Again
get carried off like carrion
arms limp, eyes pried open
gawking at the waning ground
floating free
clouds sliding past your feet
blood still hot and dripping from you
from scene to scene in vivid color
mistakes may appear larger than triumphs in the mirror
try not to be too alarmed
died to feel the burden of someone else’s thoughts,
the heat of passion, the shame of lust
rebelled a thousand times just fall in line, eventually
laughing at all the men you once thought you wanted to be
there are no bright lights here, no angels
only imperfect beings doing their best to survive
seeking refuge
seeking love
seeking meaning
Hayden Winston 
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