Holding Hands

I tried holding my own hand and you could say it din’t go too well. At 17 I’m still shocked by the fact that no matter how you turn or squirm your hands it seems we always end back up in the same praying position forced onto us from a young age. Early morning indoctrination from age 14 til we’re adults and can barely break down our own opinions because holding our hands any other way implies a surrender of our salvation.

How can we hold hands with a nation when it’s impossible to even hold our own? How can you go around preaching to others when your own hands untwine to ball up into a fist the second you see the colors of the rainbow instead of your red, white, and blue hung outside of a house? Oh that’s right, you call it a prayer for the wicked, am I correct? My bad. I guess you’ll be there praying for me, hands balled in a fist, looking down from your heavenly mansion as I march down the stairs to hell: Holding hands, escorted by the devil himself. Hands holding my flag, raising it higher the lower I go.

Some more crappy poetry (but on a type writer so it’s artsy)

Blue Ticket: Perfect Match

Heart pt. 2

Heart

Sounds of nature

Please don’t judge me, my playing is horrible with braces ✌🏽 have a good day

Everything is not what it seems

Reveal

I don’t know if I truly hold no fear or if it’s just adrenaline acting as a shield or my fast slow anxiety sitting at a low riding high or maybe it’s my borderline finally allowing me the control to turn off my emotions when I choose.

I….

I am Hawke, born as Penelope.

I am gender fluid and bi.

What does this mean?

Well it often means I sit late at night because I know that when I tell my family home will only get worse. It means I often borrow my boyfriend’s clothes just to feel comfortable and less of an imposter in my own skin when I feel more like a boy. And I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, well try living a life where your identity is wrong and disgusting.

I guess I’m passive aggressive pen name or not; sorry is what I should say here but I’m finally ready to stop apologizing. I might be a bitch but at least I’m an honest one.

And I’m not all that great at words, that’s why I’m a musician so I hope this somewhat made sense and I’m sorry for not being sorry but that’s just who I am. Have a great day 😘💜

I ain’t got sh*t to post so here u go

The connection between the land, the sea, the sky, and the mind

Different

The value of different is really quite great, far above gold. Gold is gold no matter what mountain’s heart you rip the vein from. But people are fun; we’re all made of the same cells and matter yet all that matter processes so differently the same exact imagery because portrayal of any chosen emagery is painted with such an array of color: difference in hue, difference in tone/tint, DIFFERENCE IN VALUE.

Value: The level of brightness of a color. Then what’s the value of being bright when shining puts a target on your back?

That light and all the blazing arrows coming out from your back can further illuminate a path for other lights to walk. BUT DAMN THAT’S SCARY!

So if you ask me what the value of difference is, I really could tell you, but I might be scared to.