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transsexual
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ExcessA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierExcess Older in person then the photographs I am portrayed in, a bit of silver in my hair, not unlike Superman’s mother. My rubbing.. |
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StatueA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierStatue An uneasy moving target, the only psychopath in the room. It’s the blood on the fingertips that gives him away, ominous real.. |
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SweatA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierSweat It was the first of many nightmares, the sweet sweat in the corners of someone else’s eyes. A beggar in the bathroom, the paper.. |
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GiaA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierGia Applauded for her convictions, she named her children after characters from black and white westerns, the good ones of course. She si.. |
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MovementA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierMovement How long shall we stand here, still? As bitter as the buttercup, bound by the morals buried in tobacco pipes of bureaucrats and doc.. |
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PlaidA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierPlaid It's as hard to believe as a freshman on campus, bells and whistles and bubble gum. An afterthought from the smoke of a freshly .. |
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LimestoneA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierLimestone Perching on rocks her favorite past time, considering; the bottle over the buck. With only a shoe left on the right foot, her to.. |
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Sales PitchA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierSales Pitch Well established in front of puddle water, it is almost as embarrassing the regurgitated words found on every sidewalk. A .. |
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GlassA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierGlass If the meaning in the words escape intrusion, and a thoughtful tone sets glass ideals in motion, it is the indignity of standing in .. |
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Small ChangeA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierSmall Change It’s the way he moved his hands that first drew me to him. Making small circles on the table top, looking me in the eye. .. |
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Green TeaA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierGreen Tea It’s the sound of the critics that makes the head hurt, the spilling of blood with words, every last drop. Holding art ove.. |
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Rubber BootsA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierRubber Boots It’s on these wet mornings at the park that she feels the most insecure, even as the children still play in their rubber.. |
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Rose and PalmA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierRose and Palm I find it impossible to be complacent when not being listened too, or even heard. It makes me wither like a rose half pas.. |
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FREE Hand.A Poem by Abigale LeCavalierFREE Hand He was panting as he pointed to the words on the page, looking me desperately in the eyes. “but how does that apply to me.. |
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The Best of FriendsA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierThe Best of Friends Every morning they meet in the same place at the same time, to pool whatever money they made the day before. One with .. |
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In PassingA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierIn Passing Average; every meaning of that word, I am not. Because it takes hours for me to leave the house. Complications with simple l.. |
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SmokeA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierSmoke And I lay here broken, with just a thin sheet covering all that is left of me. He was a bit brutal. And I could have done without.. |
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Left HookA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierLeft Hook I can sit here for days, tapping my foot to the music pouring from the radio. Fix my hair, paint my nails, and freshen my makeu.. |
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24 Hour ChipA Poem by Abigale LeCavalier24 Hour Chip If there were ever a time for a Miller Lite I guess it would be now, and a cigarette, and a shot of Wild Turkey. Celebrating .. |
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Lock and KeyA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierLock and Key Spending all day locked up in a room, penning the last letter of the last word in the last note she’ll ever write. &ld.. |
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