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thomas-hardyjt
thomas-hardyjt
A level student. Studying English literature, biology and psychology. Obsessed with spoken word and hoping to pursue a degree in English literature.
don’t be mistaken i tried to keep the best parts of me tucked away for you don’t be mistaken you have galaxies at your fingertips and rainforests at your feet use my chalk outline as a boundary dare to break it sincerely your absent father figure
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Jul 27, 2015
Jul 27, 2015 at 7:11 AM UTC
My unborn children
I cannot construct nor complete that sentence which fits you perfectly I think My head like scattered hay bales cannot trick itself to see you my thoughts like a minefield watch out, danger I think It was you it is you I am not your territory My body is a landscape unconquerable I think, I know
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Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 7:43 AM UTC
I cannot
At eight years old I saw my mum grow down At nine years old I witnessed her in hospital At ten years old She forgot my birthday At eleven I could not comprehend or fathom The words to express How I feel I watched my mum blossom Only to wilt I could fix a summer draught With the tears I refuse to cry At seventeen years old I still cannot gather those words
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Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 7:42 AM UTC
Growing up
Memories, memories of the boxes of masculinity I crammed myself into, for you, they are memories, memories which occupy not only my closet, but also the lining of my heart, if you had the faintest idea you’d understand, those memories burn like embers, she still doesn’t understand, memory boxes which hold photos of me, but are not me, photos of a girl before testosterone occupied and took control of her body, a girl before male hormones swam deep into her genetic code, stripping away what was, a girl, she still doesn’t understand, those memories like knives, cut deep into my skin. I can now say blood is a lot thicker than water, but that does not mean the scars on my body tell the happy tale of a family unit, they do not recite togetherness they do not dance to the rhythm of unity Instead Instead these scars loosely translate to ‘please mom, help’, she still doesn’t understand I cut my chest open for you and bare myself to you like an open cavity in hope that you’ll understand that body was a home but I was merely a guest don’t you get it?
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Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 7:14 AM UTC
A letter to the mother I used to know
I’ll stain solar systems on your heart                                                                                         So any boy who loves you has to conquer the galaxies            Before he can say “that girls mine” I’ll paint forests in  your iris                          So any boy who loves you has to adventure into depths unknown Before he can say “I got lost in her eyes” I’ll draw the sun on your lungs                                                    and the sky on your back                                                                      to teach you that your body is a habitat                                            not a hotel or an                                           ecosystem of forgotten love I’ll write novels on your thighs                                                                        So any boy who loves you has to read between the lines                  Before he can say “I got between those legs” I’ll sketch the stars on your feet                                                            So any boy who loves you can get lost in the milky way                  Before he can say “we go everywhere together” I’ll sculpt the gods on your knees                                                and clouds on your fingers to remind you                                               you can, you will                                                    conquer great things
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Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 2:43 PM UTC
If I ever have a daughter
I’ll stain solar systems on your heart                                                                                         So any boy who loves you has to conquer the galaxies            Before he can say “that girls mine” I’ll paint forests in  your iris                          So any boy who loves you has to adventure into depths unknown Before he can say “I got lost in her eyes” I’ll draw the sun on your lungs                                                    and the sky on your back                                                                      to teach you that your body is a habitat                                            not a hotel or an                                           ecosystem of forgotten love I’ll write novels on your thighs                                                                        So any boy who loves you has to read between the lines                  Before he can say “I got between those legs” I’ll sketch the stars on your feet                                                            So any boy who loves you can get lost in the milky way                  Before he can say “we go everywhere together” I’ll sculpt the gods on your knees                                                and clouds on your fingers to remind you                                               you can, you will                                                    conquer great things
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