after Bianca Phipps
It is the eve of my thirtieth birthday.
Tangled, I feel myself floating
above my body. If it weren’t
for my birthday.
Blue is the warmest color
branching into the unknown
like a river. Squeeze a lemon
and tell me you love me.
Sometimes, I get lonesome.
My creativity is so low
now that I’m not high
all the time.
Spring reminds me
that I’m still a work in progress,
that I’m still growing.
Everything seems impossible
from this perspective.
Until it isn’t.
Beck Anson Powers (he/they) is a queer and trans man battling depression and addiction in the midst of having borderline personality disorder. He often writes about these battles and other things like wildflowers and salamanders. This is his most honest bio yet but he is always revising it. They are previously published as simply Beck Anson. Follow him @beckansonpoet on Instagram or as Beck Anson on Facebook.
