Julia Aubrey Feb 5
erhaps we were meant to meet at a different time, on a different planet, in a different universe.

maybe we were meant to glide past each others warmth and flourish in the rays we put off.

it's a silly feeling. being bottled up tight and released with zero gravity to guide its course.

fuzzy and twinkling, like two stars in a strong orbit around a common barycenter.

it's like we're dancing around the same feelings, the same glow, but never realizing we're spinning to the same force which holds it all together.

set ablaze, spinning spirits letting off sparks of stardust we silently wait for our moment to shine.

whether that be together or apart...

-Julia Aubrey Rhodes-
Phoenix Jan 24
For you, it’s a simple question.
You can just say,
“Obviously, I’m a girl.”
“Duh, I’m a boy”
But for me,
It’s a question that burns
Through my mind.
It’s like an identity quiz
Where all the answers are wrong,
No matter how much you decide
To change them.

I’m twelve years old.
They’ve just handed me a bright white paper.
Are you a boy or a girl?
That’s the question they ask on every evaluation sheet.
Are you a boy or a girl?
I can only sit there,
Pencil tapping nervously against the table.
I stare at those two white boxes.
Am I a boy or a girl?
What is so wrong with my mind,
That I am not able to choose one?

I’m five years old,
The teacher asks us to make the flower our favorite color.
Pink or blue?
I don’t want to choose,
So I split the flower in the middle
One half pink
One half blue.
The teacher comes and says
“At least you tried.”
What does that mean?
I put effort into
coloring inside the lines
And making it
And all she can say is
“At least you tried.”
Am I only allowed to choose

I’m eleven years old.
I’m looking through my drawer,
Picking out clothes to wear.
The black shirt
Or the white one?
They both look nice with the pants I’ve chosen.
I know I can’t wear both,
Because only one shirt can fit on my body.
Only one.
I hastily pick the white shirt,
Only to realize
They didn’t match as well as I thought they had.

I’m twelve years old,
Still staring at that sheet.
Am I a boy or a girl?
I searched hard,
Only to find
There’s not a single thing that’s wrong
With my mind.

What makes me a girl?
Is it my hair,
Or my face,
Or the way I love to paint and make pottery?
Or maybe it’s the way all my friends are girls.
The way I love painting nails.

What makes me a boy?
Is it the way I refuse to wear a dress or skirt,
Or the way you can always find me practicing archery
In the hot summer?
The way I hate pink.
How I always play soccer and basketball.

Black or white?
Fight or flight?
Pink or blue?
Boy or girl
Boy or girl,
Boy or girl?
Why not both?
So I wrote this a few years ago, when I was still questioning my gender. Now I've realized I'm a boy so this poem doesn't really apply to me anymore. This poem is dedicated to my past self, and all the non-binary/ gender questioning kids still trying to find their place in the world.

P.S. It's supposed to be a spoken word poem
Zero Nine Nov 2017
I was a trap the last time they looked.
They saw me now, they saw me, saw I as I is now
I wasn't a trap last time I looked.
I saw me then, I saw me, saw I as I ever
Last I checked, I wouldn't get
after your sacred sex -- it's cute that you're afraid.
Last I checked, I wouldn't get
after your bible sex -- not even were I paid!

Though, that was then, and now is here.
Those aspirations, declare them dead.
Those old roads ended, I left for highways.
Those highways laid pink and blue lines.
Those definitions left me seeing red.

Last I checked, I wouldn't get
after your bible sex -- not even were I paid!

But, if you offered it, that would be a different story.
Jim Davis May 2017
Like zero
or one
Love comes
To one
Or not

©  2017 Jim Davis
I wish I exuded in the way you did
Laughter so porous
Everyone's choking on the chorus.
Be the amber stone I wear around my neck
So your presence weighs upon me
Be the noose that's not too loose
Like a hairband too tight to pull through
Be the virus in my body
That no medication can treat
Be the white noise in my head
So I can't properly think
Be the darkness of my shadow
So I feel you loom as the hours pass
Be that sensation before I sneeze
So I feel you linger when my nose hits the breeze
Be the God to my religion
So I can feel you all around me
Be the devil in the details
To feel your curses smite me
Do not, however, be my downfall
Even though you already are
By being the haunting of my waking thoughts
You've left me considering your skin with my scars
Phoebe Hynes Jan 2017

who am i?


Who I am.


I am not.
Dave Scott Dec 2016
Death Shallows at the door
Forever Present for what's in store
Our Eyes can't see for what's to come
Feel the burning bush and silent hum
The grim reaper knows no bounds
Black drapes over light to disappear here and now

In the world of darkness, you look forward to the light
A time from now see will flicker and bright
But for now you are a child in the black
Waiting for the creator to manifest a hack

Kim Thi Khanh Oct 2016
I have always struggled with my gender and sexual identity.
And that's the problem.
Trying to identify and entity
That knows no boundaries
Lines are blurred
The lines disappear

Falling into the shells
Deffirentiating heaven and hell
On earth as it is in any direction

There is no grey
There is not blackness or light
No sadnesses or joy
No passion
Alone in the oneness
Of devotion and bliss

In a world free from judgments
Perceptions are our imaginations
Imagine wisely
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