A Pattern Person

Putting all my words here for safekeeping. My name is Tara. Non-binary, anarchist, life-giver, learning how to be a person.


Now is the time of reaching unfurling in the dark we tremble at the promise of the sun’s waxing gaze

Honestly, I’m not much of one for hope. Give me joy, faith, or peace any day. Hope feels like a trickster, showing up like a light in dark times but carrying disappointment in its back pocket. I ask it not to come. Still it does, sneaking in at my feet, looking up at me all soft and sweet with its big eyes asking me to pick it up.

Our flowers grow in poison soil.

When I was young and sent to my room for some indignity I’d cry as loud and as long as I could

My mother would tell me, with spite on her tongue, “sometimes I think you like to be sad.”

I didn’t cry to be sad I cried to be heard

But sadness kept me company, and held the comfort of a truth

that no one would be coming

but they should they should


Grief of time passing by of plans unmade life undone settling on my bones the well-worn weight of it reveals the shape of me a soft embrace whispering it’s ok to be

#bookofpoems #feelings

For seven days I heard a voice in my head speak a truth I didn’t know I had been seeking




until it had cleared away all the thoughts from my brain

until I could hear it echoing deafening off the bedroom walls

until I could only answer in reply




until it covered me with joy and my heart turned inside out

and all the parts of me found their way home

#bookofpoems #fragments #becoming

It’s already my birthday in the place where I was born Hah! An extra two hours for me


Did you know there are people who have feelings?

Did you know there are people who have feelings that just show up like they have a standing invitation to the feelings party?

Did you know there are people who have feelings that they would like to share with other people who have feelings?

Did you know there are people who have feelings that speak and not the things that burrow into your body and gnaw at the walls of your stomach until you wonder if you have cancer

or the things that slide along your bones and bind your flesh so tight you wonder if you are made of stone

Did you know there are people who have feelings that move and dance and cry and sing and not the things that fold in and collapse into a black hole inside you, threatening to swallow the world if you open your mouth too wide

Did you know?

I didn’t know I didn’t know No one ever told me

#bookofpoems #becoming

Someday you will die and no one will know that you stayed up too late because you were avoiding the trash

Someday you will die and no one will think about whether you had a house or how you kept it


My body is leaking information words overflowing from my brain slipping out silently between the sounds of our conversations

flowing neatly, swiftly, through the tip of my finger as I scroll on the phone falling begrudgingly into my morning coffee, plop, plop, plop to be swallowed back down again

they are littering the floor piling up on the stairs they are churning churning in my head and twisting up in my hair

I want to gather them up

I want to pour them into the cracks of the world letting them grow thicker and thicker until they pry apart reality and reveal what is underneath

I want to pour them onto the page and watch them arrange themselves into a truth

I want to gather them up into the shape of me so I can show you and say, “see? see? now do you see?”

but they slip through my fingers as I walk down the hall they slide down the drain while I cut my hair over the bathroom sink they get lost in the piles of dirty laundry that do not care about me

and so I leave them, silently


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