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  Nov 2015 JenaMarie
Agustin Fuentes
Moist cement leads to broken metal doors which hold in the pungent scent of the orange air fresheners
Click, ding, swoosh
Everyone rushes in to pretend they have a purpose
Broken earbuds serve me no purpose other than the universal sign of "leave me the **** alone"
Leather wrapped around foam in neat rows
Lined by green tint
And topped with arches of metal
I squeeze into the last bit of routine and look out into the green tinted world
My reflection stares back, judging me

I pretend to ignore him, but she demands attention
They get a firm grip on my hair and tear me from my leather *******
She tells me that there is no hope for the one I pretend to love
He says she has no doubt in their soul that I'm making things worse
I'm suddenly sitting in a metal chair
I feel bound to it, but I'm not

She does it for attention

He has the option to get up, but they stay to hear the truth she has to tell

They do it for attention

You are doing this to ourselves
We can get up from this chair but he doesn't let yourself

We do it for attention

She feels the chair get hot where he sits
They know he can get up but she feels he deserves this pain
He are not bound
We is not bound
They were not bound
She won't be bound

He must be doing this for attention

Attention from whom
They hid her chair for as long as he possibly could
She lied saying he was cold...in June
He made jokes when she couldn't come up with excuses
She didn't do this for attention
He sat in the seat because it is her fault
They can get up at anytime
But I don't
I wrote this to (hopefully) be relatable to both people with gender identity confusion and MPD.
  Nov 2015 JenaMarie
Maha Salman
I drown what surrounds me in a sea of music,

                                             because as soon as I turn that music off,
I hear shouting and screaming                                                        ­    
                                       words such as "Idiotic"
are applied to me                        
                                                                ­                     and I hate it.
However...                                                 ­                     
      I choose not to hate
      thus
        I drown this world into an illusion
of what my music plays.
JenaMarie Nov 2015
Beauty
Is an expectation in our society today
Makeup
Makes us up
Clothes
Become who we are
Beauty
Was invented to hide one's scars
Makeup
Gives us a mask
Clothes
Let us redesign who we are
Beauty
Is what drives us crazy
Girls
Are killing themselves,
to find someone who'd **** for them
Beauty
Boys face it too
Pressure
To look impressive
Desire
To be desirable
Beauty
The measurement of it
Is what should be blamed,
for our troubles
Not
Beauty itself.
  Jun 2015 JenaMarie
Yasmin Nooren
What if I told you God is gay?
Do you think belligerent bible-belters
Would still holler hate speech to the hilltops
In His name?
Or do you think they would reread the scriptures
They say they swear and survive by
See, I've been reading the Bible again lately
And I think I've taken a leaf from my old holy book,
Picking passages for my purpose
Which is in short
To show you it's very possible God is gay.
I mean think about the book of Genesis
In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth
And it wasn't just good, it was fabulous.
I mean what else is our planet but the pinnacle
Of exterior design, and I don't mean to generalize
But it certainly seems like that the Garden of Eden
Was designed by queer, I mean divine eye for the straight guy
But some Christians would go as far as to call
God's creations abominations
Heretics calling themselves faithful
When their faith is full of belief that only God may pass judgment
Matthew 7:1 Judge and you too shall be judged
Luke 6: 37 Condemn not and you shall not be condemned
Fred Phelps 2006: You're going to hell! God hates ****!
A history lesson: A ****** is a bundle of sticks
Originally used as kindling for fires that engulfed gays
When they were burned at the stake, people were firewood
But Moses came across wood on fire and saw God in it,
What is a burning bush but bundles of branches
On fire, isn't it funny how ******* and God can look the same sometimes?
Keep in mind Jesus had two dads and turned out just fine
In fact, Jesus had two dads and a surrogate mother
That never had *** with either of them,
Maybe Mary was a lesbian
And I remember the prayer going
"Hail Mary, full of grace"
Not full of sin,
"Pray for us sinners"
For we have become blinded by bigotry.
And forgotten that God gave us the rainbow
As a promise that we will never be flooded again
Either with rain or ignorance
And now all the homosexual **** sapiens
Stand more united under God's rainbow
Than all of his denominations do around the cross.
I was brought up believing that my Savior loved us all
And never had to specify "no ****"
But if you have hate in your heart
Say it don't pray it
Don't teach it and for the love of God don't preach it
Because I am tired of these fire and brimstone sermons
Slinging slurs when they're not firing brimstones
From voices that should be filled with love and praise
Instead of raised with hate and rage
I am a Christian, and I believe in saying the Christian thing.
Which used to sound like "Love thy neighbor as thyself"
But now sounds more like hate at the top of your picket signs
The closest thing to God being "Hell, is waiting for you"
They're passing out damnation pamphlets
Filled with out-of-context Bible verses
Trying to define God
When his meaning is clear.
He is acceptance, He is pride, He is humility, He is just,
God is perfection, God is protection, God is love,
But most importantly
God is gay
This is not my own poem, The writer of this poem is Elliot Darrow
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V6AQyBEN5fM
JenaMarie Nov 2013
At first they're just a seed really rough and *****... But they never let you see how beautiful and incredible they really are. So, they start to grow all twisted and unpredictable. Then they start to grasp on the pretty face in a perfect phase, not seeing their own amazing and beautiful self. You try to shake them free of all that nonsense they hear on t.v. But every time you shake roses it only makes them wish harder to be that pretty face everyone seems to want. When you catch them cut you try to stop them, tell them how much you love them. You couldn't realize that they believed only by cutting could a rose let go all the mean things said and grow. Then it happened, too soon, only a second with their finger on the trigger, now their gone forever. Too bad you couldn't see the beauty of a black rose.
JenaMarie Nov 2013
Smooth sounds fill the coffee scented air,
smoke flies around like butterflies on  warm summer days.
Easy going conversations with hearty laughter whisper softly in my ear,
The fire is flickering softly giving the room a candle glow.
People come and go letting in a cool breeze, the fall air rushes through the doors, From the corner music pours out of the musician into the customer's soul.
I watch people leave, with a simile on their face that they hadn't had before coming in.

— The End —