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LjMark Nov 2015
I wonder what's on the other side
Is Leelah in a place she no longer must hide
Will there some day be room there left for me
A place I can shine and be totally free

To those who try to hold us down
And keep us from wearing our own unique crown
Shame on you for the pain you bring
To the struggling souls whose only wish is to sing

Lj Mark 2015
In memory of Leelah Alcorn. With love.
Cody Henatt Nov 2015
One step, two step, three step,

Four.

Leelah stared at the beaming lights, the allure.



Her chest was empty, despite her living heart,

Which bled the way two lovers’ did, tangibly far apart.



Flat chest, short hair, being a man,

But born to be different, wanting her heart’s plan.



The vehicle approached, a beacon of fairness,

Never going to be a girl, she stepped into its sudden kiss.



For when no one loves you the way you are,

It brings a feeling of emptiness, suicide, and maybe a car.



Her fine features were aglow in the travesty of death,

The white lights hugging against her face, and the rest.



And then came the collision, no scream was heard,

Even in life, no one cared for her desperate words.



But a message is found in most everything,

And Leelah’s is found in the hands of the people who sing,

The Same Song, that her voice did once bring.



No step, once a step, no steps, no more,

Miss the step, want the step, of Leelah Alcorn.
Quiet Jan 2015
You say you accept us?

Why the hell do you use 'that's gay' as an insult if you're so accepting?

And when are you going to learn that there's more than just gay and straight. Just like there's more than black and white, and there's more than ignorance, though I rarely see it!

And if you think the word '******' is ok, then walk away because we're gonna have a problem.

You have it so easy.

Do we walk around asking you why you chose to be straight?

Should we?

DO YOU GET FORCED INTO ******* CONVERSION THERAPY LIKE OH NO, WAIT, YOU'RE STRAIGHT? TSK TSK LITTLE BOY. GAY IS THE NORM, BEING STRAIGHT IS JUST A PHASE!

No!

You don't.

And I may be wrong, but has anyone ever slit their throat because someone was like 'oh, you're straight'?

Probably not, right?

So get out of my face unless you're going to accept us, because there shouldn't even be a question about this! We just like different people.

Stop making us afraid, stop using our sexuality as a weapon, stop questioning us, just stop.
Inspired by Denice Trohman's slam poem.

And also by Leelah Alcorn's suicide. Rest in power.
Stargaria Jan 2015
The fear of the same.

why does my happiness affect you?
Why do my pictures and comments spark hate?
Why do you feel the need to put me down about my life?

It's the way I am!
It's the way I've been!
It's the way I will be!

Call me queer,
Call me gay,
Call me bent,
I DONT ******* CARE!

Your insults aren't insulting!
Your words are useless!
You try to bring me down by labelling who I am?
That's pathetic.

So let me ask again,
Why does my happiness affect you?

So much so that people get hurt!
The community stand tall!
Taller than religion,
Taller than the government,
Because we follow our hearts!
And not fairytale's and scripts!
We live a life we choose,
One which makes us happy.

Your bible supposedly accepts everyone?
So why did my friend feel the need to **** herself because of you!
She was happy,
She was smart,
But you put her down!
You drove her to depression,
And for what?
After all I thought that God creates everyone?
So why create a transgender who is not to be accepted?
It's a bit stupid if you ask me!

She is in our hearts,
Always,
Religion means nothing,
And shall no longer hinder our happiness,
R.I.P Leelah Alcorn
#LGBT #leelahalcorn #homophobia #change
kaye Jan 2015
and yet another soul lost the battle
and succumbed
to the cruel kiss of self-destruction.

"she was so pretty"
"he had such nice eyes"

why didn't you say it when they were alive?
then maybe, you could've saved a life.
RIP Leelah Alcorn
Enigmuse Jan 2015
and we asked you for help
and you laughed at the candor
and we dropped dead like flies.

****** t-shirts falling from
clothing lines as clothing pins
litter the floor of the morgue

and parents pick out caskets
ten sizes too small, for dead
babies and children of the

night, the ones who had been hanging
from street lights and shooting stars,
who asked for help in the form

of loud music, slow dancing,
painting in dark colors, tying
red balloons to doorknobs,

and leaving home without layers.
these children, they’re wearing t-shirts
in late december and you’re

wondering why they’re shivering.
in the mean time, you turn your cheek
and lift the zipper of your fur coats.
a metaphor for suicide

— The End —