If you think my poetry is cliché

If you don’t like the pink in my hair
my lip ring or numerous tattoos
I don’t have time for you
If you can’t respect my right
to love the smell of old books
money and gasoline
to drink wine like juice
to make inappropriate jokes
to think it would be awesome
to meet a pack of velociraptors

Yes, I know I would probably die

I don’t have time for you
if you can’t respect my right
to think the LGBTQ community
should be allowed to marry
have kids and build a family
to be bi-curious
to dance white
to think color is a ridiculous invention
to be affectionate
to play pranks like a five-year-old
to spend most of my time
inside my own head
to think about the world in spirals
always coming back around
to good and bad and good again

I don’t have time for you
If you don’t have time for me
I am silly
gorgeous
adventurous
headstrong
smart
and willing
to make time for you
willing to understand
the differences
fleshing out in quirks

I am willing
to let you see
my wounds
birth and stretch marks
I am willing
To love the purples, pinks
and whites of yours.
I am willing
to a point,
because I have no time
for anyone who does not
make time for me.

Author: Chelsea Griffin

Editor: Emily Bartran

Photo: Laura D’Alessandro/Flickr