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12 Old Poems

Posted by soulconstance , in Multiple Poems 16 July 2010 · 67 views


Is this not me,
here, stuck in spite,
living in the darkness
of my own light.
As the spirit is released
breath catches me swiftly
calling for that which
I never sought, trusting.
Love touch the light
in gleaming kiss,
stripping the spite
from this wisp.


Know Me

You don't know who I am,
but I'm here
hiding beneath the lining
'of unsubstantial lives'.
You don't know me,
but I've always been in view
hiding behind curtains
silhouette stained-glass windows.

That's a feeling that I found hard to shake before I came out as trans. Now I feel it a lot less, and I feel it around a lot less people.

Inside Here

Cascade the memories, old and creeping,
now pour over me like a razor -
lies I have controlled with.

Green fields give way
lie into the forest of skies.
Dips touch into the hillside of trees
memorized by a town so close in sight.

I sleep alone in a manor for three,
catch darkness of tears
and set free to moonlight.

Words left silent to parched lips.
A life lurks beneath this human shroud.
A history tried, lay before wondering feet -
stay here and become part of the cycle.

I miss it when we were just three. This one is about multiplicity.


Decisions left on hand
plans made by distant hearts
paths right laid before
wondering hearts soon to leave.

Written before I left this town the first time.


I made my way by the road of this world,
searched for place but lost.
Crouch down beneath the bushes, stay,
in play remain a character I made.



The sun rises, falls,
Wind rushes below me,
Stars shine above.

Flowers blossom
Beauty breathing before
Leaving me in aw.

My notes say the first one is about joy and freedom of mind, and the second is about new life.


Heat plays with smoke,
dancing on the concrete
swirling mystery.

I write this one while watching how the smoke moves with the summer wind.


Take not my memory
nor my love or inconsistency.
Leave me as I am
falling into anesthetized


He Walks Past Me

He walks right past me.
I said, "Yes, I saw his brow,
and yes I saw his tie."
It does not make him a man,
it just doesn't make him
a spirit on fire with lights and lire,
a traveling barrage for my soul to sabotage.

He walks right past me.
I said, "Yes, I want to kiss him,"
and the non-existent heart in his
blue-cord, spirit jacket.

He must be lost.

Blue-cord, spirit jacket is now officially part of my alter's vocab. She writes it everywhere to reference to this poem when she's trying to say that people may not be how wonderful they seem. This poem is about... how sometimes people will seem so awesome, so cool, or so nice - and you wonder how they could be right there in front of you, right there with you, talking with you.... but that first impressions, or second impressions, or even third impressions are not necessarily correct.


crashed into the ocean
as Baby saw the bird
flying overhead.
Crackling the bones
swiftly take mind
and heart quickly follows
wagging it's tail
like a puppy in
h e e t.

Signify the reasoning
in the snow.

My alter wrote this about R. If only I had listened to her. I think she was trying to tell me that he was just s*x crazed and that he was going to hurt me.

Violet Lightning Sky

Oh, violet lightning high stay.
I do not need the peaceful sky.
Take me up within your light,
To the clouds where I can lay.

This was one of the few things I wrote, I guess, that I liked, after I left R. I had left town. I was watching the lightning streak the sky, and feeling like it was the only energy I had left. I felt weak from sadness and from starvation, and I just... wanted to become part of the lightning, to be lifted into the sky and hide in the clouds.

Take Me to the Moon

Baby, take me away. The moon is so close.
And the rain is a comfort after a drought, but it feels so bad when it's a downpour in the snow. And I just want to be able to see the sky again.
The moon is so close.

I can almost touch it. Tasting moondust on my tongue - so sweet like a french kiss to the heart. Pull it out, push it, take it away.
The moon is so close. I can almost kiss it.

And I'd look down from here, and it seems so far away. I forgot what the clouds looked like from above... but honey, the sun's so blinding. I wish you had the wings, I'd think. You'd know what to do from here.

I'll just let it happen. Baby, take me away.
The moon is so close.
I can almost....

This was a poem my alter wrote for me awhile ago. She calls me 'Baby' and writes me poetry. And I'm certain she cares so much for me.

That's that for now.

Copywrite Soulconstance aka Quin aka Me.

Trigger Warning

Warning: Some of my poetry and prose may be triggering. I write just about as much about survivor issues as I do about love.
Please keep yourself safe.

May 2016

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