Tags lgbt
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.. |
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.. |
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.. |
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.. |
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 .. |
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.. |
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.. |
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.. |
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 .. |
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.. |
805A Poem by Abigale LeCavalier805 Watershed moments while sitting in traffic, the girl two cars up is texting while she waits. The smoke from my cigarette circulates, .. |
ThreeA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierThree I had been lying here for three days before they found me, all sticky and sweet. I had in my right hand a fist, and a clump of .. |
ZippoA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierZippo She lights a cigarette with the Zippo her father gave her, the only thing from his house she was allowed to retrieve. A bottle full.. |
SmileA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierSmile Walking midmorning, another cold day in Los Angeles, and the ever present sound of comfortable shoes echoes down the alleyway. .. |
SmotheredA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierSmothered Walking in the sunshine for the first time, every step the thoughtful consideration of something different. And there are those .. |
I Can't Feel My FeetA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierI Can’t Feel My Feet Looking to shut it down, standing in line waiting to be fed a spoonful of life. And I can’t see the stars .. |
DefinitionA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierDefinition The accommodation of other Peoples problems with image, I am a small projection on a very large screen. Being not a facsimile, .. |
StilettosA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierStilettos An exercise of intolerance, these dreams have all been made by men. Sitting under the microscope, unchanged, but yet different.. |
BirchwoodA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierBirchwood Breaking down like Birchwood, the feelings of a foggy day sends shivers down my spine. Eating the leftovers of life, not quite .. |
HandbagA Poem by Abigale LeCavalierHandbag “An empire For an apple!” he’d shout. I didn’t know what he meant by that, still don’t. His voice .. |