To the man with the comb-over,
I resent you.
For the way you talk about women,
Speaking of us like property,
For taking away our choice,
Of if we want to conceive.

To the man with the loud mouth,
I ignore you.
For shooting down people’s words,
Putting a lock on their mouth,
And interrupting them with your nasally
“Wrong”.

To the man with the twisted morals,
I abhor you.
For the families pushed out of the country,
By the wall in your heart
And the one you want for your country.

To the man with all of the power,
I fear you.
For the lies you tell,
You reek of deceit.
For how you make war,
Or peace, if that’s what you want to call it.

forty-eight hours is a long time to wear a binder,
and my ribs are screaming for mercy,
for a break from the compression and lack of mobility.
but it's not that easy.

sometimes i'd rather face the pain,
than face the fact that i am female.
these weights on my chest,
drag me to the ground.
i break down.

i feel locked in my body,
and all i want to do is break free.
nobody should feel the need to shower in the dark,
because the reality of their body is too much for them.
it shouldn't be this way

and i know i shouldn't compare myself to people,
but i cannot stop thinking,
'what if i were cis'.
i think of how much easier everything would be.
i wouldn't have to worry over how long i've been wearing my binder,
or if i pass,

i wouldn't have to worry about turning eighteen,
knowing i will be homeless.
but instead, my mother would celebrate her baby,
becoming a "legal adult."

forty-eight hours wouldn't be a worrying statement,
just another frame of time,
it wouldn't reflect on my self-care routines,
or lack thereof

it'd just be forty-eight hours.

As we sat around the bonfire,
Laughing and loving,
Our spirits couldn't get any higher
And we laughed the night away

The smoke smelled nice,
As we made s'mores,
And burned our eyes,
But we smiled anyway

Music sweetly played,
Over our loud conversation,
But we still listened and swayed
In the cool winter night

I won't forget the fun,
The smiles,
From the ending or when it begun,
And in my heart it'll stay.

Excuse me sir,
Please enlighten me
Why is it that when I don’t find your **** joke funny
It means I have a ‘bad sense of humor’
But you don’t have a bad sense of morality?
Excuse me sir,
Please educate me
Why is it that when a white man ***** an unconscious woman,
He only got three months in jail?
Because he was ‘a good athlete’
Excuse me sir,
Please ask me
Why I need my feminism
I need feminism,
because ‘boys will be boys’ is being used to justify ****
Because if I decide I want to wear short shorts,
Or heels,
Or even red lipstick-
I am ‘asking for it’
Because if I am tipsy or unconscious,
I am ‘asking’ for you to take over my body
‘Asking’ you to violate me in the worst way you could
Because **** is being justified.
Boys will not ‘be boys’
Boys will be held accountable for their actions-
Just like everyone else
So Excuse me sir,
Don’t tell me **** jokes,
Don’t tell me how Brock is a good athlete,
Don’t tell me that I was asking for it,
Don’t tell me that I should ‘consider myself lucky’,
Or that I should have enjoyed it
Don’t **** shame me,
Don’t tell me it’s not a big deal,
Don’t belittle ****.
It can happen to boys,
It can happen to girls,
And everyone in between
It can happen to you,
Or to someone you love
Excuse me sir,
Please
Don’t justify ****

At 10:00 am, less than 100 students walked out to the flagpole
for our school's second walkout.
While there was less than one fourth of the population from the first walkout,
it was so much more powerful.
So many voices were heard.
We screamed, cried, laughed, read poems,
and all silently wished for a riot; wished for change.
We all wished that we didn't have to do this.
Wished that we didn't have to fear being shot at school,
the place where we are supposed to be safest.
But in that moment,
we were one.
We hugged, rested our heads on each other's shoulders,
and were one giant support system.
We are going to make change.

She was like a cup of coffee.
A plain, black, cup of coffee.
She kept the world awake.

Her personality was warm,
But she had a bitter aftertaste.

the first time we hung out,
i couldn't stop smiling.
i'd cover my face when i smiled,
hoping you wouldn't see me blush,
but i just can't explain how you make me feel.
you are so cute,
and funny,
and all around lovely.
so how could you ever fall for someone like me?

for all of my life,
i've been told that i would be going to hell,
that i'm destroying god's creation,
that god hates me.

the same god that is supposed to be all-loving.

then you have the audacity to ask,
'why aren't you a christian?'

it's not that i hate religion,
i just can't support one that has dehumanized queer people
for hundreds of years.

you apologize,
but you show no real remorse
you only want an excuse,
to keep me in your life,
to manipulate me,
to hurt me.

you hurt me.

you make me feel stupid,
fat,
ugly,
worthless.
worthless.

I am worthless

you've taught me that I have no self value,
that I am good at nothing

my self esteem is gone,
you've taken it all away,
I'm watching it burn,
with the memories of you.

you.

I hate you.

the fear of the future,
devours me
it eats me whole,
and shows me no mercy

I lie awake at night,
the moonlight softly showing
through my blinds,
and am stirred by the thought
of the future

when I come out to my family,
what will happen?

will they try to beat it out of me,
will they kick me to the curb,
or will they stand by my side,
waving a flag in pride?

what will the future hold?

The rumbling of fall,
calling my name.

The burning smell filling the air,
leaves sweeping me off of my feet.

Calming and hopeful.

rain,
dripping on my face,
soaking my hair,

blending in with all of my tears.

thunder,
shaking the ground,
going through my bones,

cleansing me of all my fears.

The flick of a lighter started it all,
A singular burning flame
She tossed it down,
And started to run
Now she was the one to blame


A beautiful tragedy,
The building crumbling to the floor,
The beams crashing down
She had to deal with him no more


She walked away,
And wiped her face
Leaving behind her past,
There was nothing,
Not even a trace


She was free,
Free at last
Free from him,
And free from her past

The seeds of your soul
have been planted in my heart.

They've sprouted.

Their roots wrapped around my ribs,
latching onto me.

You are a part of me.