Andrea Gibson
Andrea Gibson
Andrea Gibsonis an award-winning poet and activist who lives in Boulder, Colorado. Gibson's poetry focuses on gender norms, politics, social reform and the struggles LGBTQ people face in today's society...
different forget breathe
We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.
fire naked burning
My mouth is a fire escape. The words coming out don’t care that they are naked. There is something burning in there.
loneliness hitting bruises
But when I thought I hit bottom, it started hitting back. There is no bruise like the bruise loneliness kicks into your spine.
running mistake ocean
I know this world is far from perfect. I am not the type to mistake a streetlight for the moon. I know our wounds are deep as the Atlantic. But every ocean has a shoreline and every shoreline has a tide that is constantly returning to wake the songbirds in our hands, to wake the music in our bones, to place one fearless kiss on the mouth of that new born river that has to run through the center of our hearts to find its way home.
i-like-you toxins cookies
Let me also say I wanna make you sandwhiches, And soup, And peanut butter cookies, Though, the truth is peanutbutter is actually really bad for you 'cause they grow peanuts in old cotton fields to clean the toxins out of the soil, But hey, you like peanutbutter and I like you!
heaven flying this-life
I intend to leave this life so shattered there's gonna have to be a thousand separate heavens for all of my flying parts
fall eye boys
Right now there’s a man on the street outside my door with outstretched hands full of heartbeats no one can hear. He has cheeks like torn sheet music every tear-broken crescendo falling on deaf ears. At his side there’s a boy with eyes like an anthem no one stands up for.
land soul found
Do you know they found land mines in woman's souls.
flower people
I thought, "The flowers, save the flowers..." I never thought for a second we wouldn't save the people
pain heart thinking
Do you think anger is a sincere emotion or the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain?
thinking sweaters village
To think, a sweater, is made entirely of knots. My stomach could clothe a village.
broken-heart moon doctors
A doctor once told me I feel too much. I said, so does god. that’s why you can see the grand canyon from the moon.
pain avalanches made
Say this is what the pain made of you: an open, open, open road, an avalanche of feel it all.
inspirational writing yarn
In your arms I forget what the yarn knows of sweaters. I forget how to hold myself together. So if I unfold now like a love letter tell me you'll write back soon. Tell me you'll still come untethered.