Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2018
As a child I dabbled in ******

No barbie was safe from the hands of their god

Ran hills caked to the toe
Roughed terrain with neighborhood boys

They called me girl
But I felt boy

Upon later years I learned:
Dress
Skirt
Bra
Flower
Amenities accustomed to this body;
A bustling street of hormones without a
red light

Next were *******β€”
Wild & rambling, I soon
Mastered the art of shrinking

I kissed my first boy & felt it rattle through my bones
His hair an ocean in my hands as I rose up
to the surface

Later I discovered the shared experience of Woman,
Shifting about the world as a silly metaphor
Carved fingers into mace & metal
Ankles clinking busily on a subway platform

In learning to fight
The young boy dwindled into memory and
I couldn’t sense shape anymore

Fell in and out of love with woman and man alike,
Sinking deep into salt & sand

These days I can’t help but wonder if
attraction is a mode of defense
Or that of love

These days I run hills in heels
Caked to the toe in color

--
c
These days I try not to identify with a normative sexuality. I believe it is fluid and shouldn’t be contained with labels. I hope this poem is relatable to those that feel/have felt the same.
c
Written by
c  26/F/Chicago
(26/F/Chicago)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems