the smell of sunshine
i am baffled by
the things that remind me of you:
a stranger's hair,
a neighbor's yell;
the time your sister locked herself in your room
and jumped out your window,
the day you crashed my skateboard,
and the night we slept in your closet.
(i mean it literally,
but you get impatient with all closets.)
every time i go too fast
every time i camp in the attic
every time i light a match
every thing is you.
it's strange that i never
loved it as much then;
time changes all truths.
i don't know now what was real
and what i made up after the fact
(like my feelings)
and what i only wish i could believe in.
it baffles me, the things that
remind me of what never happened.
Adrian Shaffer is a forever-child who calls fantasy worlds home and was raised in books and imagination. He uses words and life to help others, raising awareness of the struggles he lives through as a trans and queer person. Adrian's poetry shows the world as it should be, the world as it will be, if only art and world alike could shed the body. It can show you who you are, reflected on a dirty surface; it can show you who he is, reflected on you. You have only to open your eyes and let it in.