Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ghost Feb 2021
Does being this right now

Bind me to a future

Filled with foes

Filled with lies

Filled with guilt over my choices

Of right now?
Ghost Feb 2021
I want to cut my hair
To watch it all fall down
To cut away my ties
To cut away my frown

To cut apart from people
That made me tear away from life
To cut away from feeling
To cut away from strife

To cut away from ones
That care more than me in this
To cut away reality
To cut away the wish

To cut my hair
To change my chest
To break my bones
To never rest
cut hair gender dysphoria
Ghost Feb 2021
I look in my reflection
And in the mist I see
A completely unknown person
To which the world calls “she.”

Her long hair a dark brown,
Eye color? Hard to tell
Her chest fully unbound
Says she’s doing well

I grasp onto my face
Staring into hers
The world has picked up pace
And all my vision blurs

But her face is not mine
To the mist I’m not confined
Ghost Apr 2020
A remembrance of those who fell

So that we could fly.

A salute to the ones

Whose determination rivals all.

A way to say “Thank you”

To the ones who helped us grow.

The memorial itself doesn’t do that alone

But the people who see it and remember.
Ghost Apr 2020
We're all isolated

Just to avoid

The

Diseased

when what  

we should  

be

Afraid  

of  

is  

the  

Insanity  

that’s  

hiding

behind

  Quarantine.
Ghost Apr 2020
Looking up as the snow fell on the freezing winters day,

The silence stealing all breath as the flurry pummeled itself into my face,

My eyes taking all force of the breeze,

Feeling like a thousand bees brushing my face,

The forest around so quiet my own heartbeat felt like a disturbance.

The birch trees around,

Stripped of their leaves by the cold autumn air,

Seemed to look with chilling eyes,

Staring into my soul,

Reading all my intentions,

My story,

Never blinking,

Just watching,

With unfeeling pupils.

The moon above seemed to grow bigger each passing moment,

Wondering,

Thinking,

Asking why I’m out so late,

Refusing to stoop down to the level of the trees by finding out himself,

Instead questioning,

Berating,

Judging.

The moment ends.

The moon goes behind a cloud,  

Silenced by the wind.

Fog swallows the forest,

The trees fading into the void,

Blinded by the darkness.

Without the reflected rays from the moon,  

No light could be found.

Surrounded by the creeping gloom,

All was silent,

Deathly Silent.

— The End —