Jillian Tamaki - Illustration from a Folio Society collection of Irish Myths and Legends, 2010
Y.Z, You never told your mother about me (via rustyvoices)
Winter is crawling into your mouth and
turning your cheeks so red,
you almost look embarrassed to be loving me.
Your hands have become a quiet whisper,
and they never have anything to say to me
when other people are watching.
What is it like to love someone
without fear of making
too much noise?
I don’t know.
I tried to ask you about it,
but you told me that I was crazy.
That I was insane
saying things like that where people
I want to write you a love letter
but this is all I can give you
until you learn how to deserve more.
You have to know that I don’t want you like this.
I don’t want you wiping the lipstick
off my mouth before it can stain you.
I don’t want you with all soft skin
and careful bones.
I want this to leave marks.
I want sharp teeth.
I want something brave,
I want to be the name sitting on top your tongue
instead of the one
you bury in the back of your
I am so tired of being left
like a beggar asking for change,
and I am so tired of you always having empty pockets.
Twenty years before NWA screamed “Fuck tha Police” Marsha P. Johnson was in the streets of New York throwing shoes at them (so the story goes). Marsha P. Johnson (June 27, 1944 – July 6, 1992) aka “the Saint of Christopher Street” was an iconic trans* rights activist. She was a leader in the resistance against police harassment in what we know as the Stonewall Riots. She also was the cofounder of Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries (S.T.A.R.)