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  Jun 2014 Julian Dorothea
Why do they call it being 'absentminded'
When you're present, more than ever, in your head?
Maybe live somewhere else instead.
My share of conversation's dead.
In one ear and out the other.
Swim in space and float in water.
  Jun 2014 Julian Dorothea
my greatest fear
is mother and father
reading my journals

see through lines
deliberately unreadable

because i write the unthinkable
     'i might not marry someday'

and the perverse
     'i wonder what's it like to **** this girl'

and the abominable
     Amber is a woman trapped in the wrong body
                  ­               is

i choke on the silence
because it is woman's role
in Saturday sermons

because i cannot borrow my brother's slippers
     i am not needed outdoors

because when i spoke for the trans waiter with the pained smile
     they blamed my sociology
     and not my compassion

mother and father, bless your souls
i'd rather not have you read this

and believe in the 'i love you's

                               because love is the greatest commandment
                                               *but we spit on the ****
if it's meant to happen,
it will.
but do not think this means
you get to sit
on your *** all day,
waiting for Fate.
Fate's here.
Time's now.
do something about it
disturb the universe
swirl the stars
and they will dance for you

life is good and long
and there are risks
well worth taking
your days
on this green earth
are numbered.
make them count.
im doing this thing where i write a poem every day until the day i move
my days are quite literally numbered right now
Julian Dorothea May 2014
I never write poetry
I write crap in line breaks
Julian Dorothea May 2014
sometimes I feel very very small*

I am here
on the bed
a cocoon
fighting desperately to be a butterfly

you are there
a bird
big strong wings waiting
to eat me.

I am small
like a loose thread from an old sweater
moving against fingertips
you could roll me into a ball

and you are the smudge on the window pane
that this ball cannot wipe away.

I am the small drop on the shower head
clinging, trepid,
anticipating my great fall

you are the hairs on the shower drain
not going anywhere
hindering the flow.

I am small
and I am tired of you

I am sick of the parts of you still in me.

I am the cocoon
-ly fighting
to be

aching for freedom
I break my mattress cage

I crumble, choke, struggle
instead of fly

The feathers in my pillow
are yours


smother me.
had a little help from my best mate, Phil Lester (her name's Jay should totes follow her too).
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