Love Letter to Los Angeles

I woke up with snow on my mouth
Little crystals drifting by my face
Frosted lips, chapped and smiling
Flakes pillowing together

Rosy cheeks and mittens
Twirling around, laughing
In the darkness, perfect balance
But the black fades and I awake

Palm trees outside the window
Never ending sunshine that blends time
Winter is Summer, Fall is Spring
A backstabbing knife already twisted into my back

Good morning Los Angeles
I love you too

You artists and writers and assistants
Hustling and side hustling
Making hot takes on popular brands
Writing money, building empires

Today I can’t move because I’m frozen
Mountains of snow piled so high
They dug a trench to let us pass through
But I am trapped here in my winter wonderland

Being trans doesn’t mean I am me
It means I am a thing to like on FaceBook
To feign sadness for, to gaze at with unfocused eyes
Force your smile when I say I care about something

Assistant at an agency, up at five
Pens a genre film, drinks coffee
Stand-up at night, hungry, so hungry
They want it, whatever it is, they need it

Hot coco at 3pm means something
Shoveling snow for a neighbor means something
I mean something because I do peaceful things
I mean something I mean something I mean something

Please, just let me die already
Let me let go of everything
Let me go to sleep
So I can feel the snow again

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