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Katie Murray Nov 2016
She is a girl

She has two sisters, a dog
And a pair of worn-out headphones in her pocket

She is fifteen

She plays violin in the school orchestra
And sings duets in the sun

She is left-handed

She’s also pansexual
(Just thought you should know)

<><><>

She is a girl
(A different girl, mind you)

She has bright hair and dark eyes
And a sky of freckles spanning her body

She is a netball player

She listens to everything that’s said
And laughs at everything in response

She is an Aquarius

Her girlfriend is an Virgo
(Is this what they call diversity?)

<><><>

He is a boy

He is on the males’ baseball team
And recites prophetical speeches in the dugout

He is an early riser

He likes old-fashioned comedy movies
And his favourite colour is either orange or black

He is graduating next year

He’ll finally get to ask his school’s star pitcher to prom
(Finally is the right word)

<><><>

‘She’ is a boy
(A different boy, mind you)

‘She’ lives in the countryside
And travels 2 hours to campus each morning

‘She’ is a realist

‘She’ studies human relations
And has wanted to visit Rome since 'she' was eight

‘She’ is a part-time barista

‘She’ prefers the pronoun ‘he’
(No big deal if you forget though)

<><><>

They are people

They have people they love
And people who love them

They are people

They may have changed to you
And yet they haven’t changed to themselves

They are people
They are still people

<><><>

(Just thought you should know)

<><><>
03 / 11 / 16
*DRAFT*
For my English class. May repost later with minor changes.
Morgan Rain Sep 2016
Bi
Always been openly queer

Bisexual
as attention seeking as it seemed for a young girl to be.

How
are you supposed to know what kind of body
your lovers soul
is reborn in?

Why
limit your search
for your "one"
with modern social constructions
and religious heterosexual binds?

My sexuality
who I love
is who I love...

Whoever they are
whichever body they've found themselves in
this time.
Roo Aug 2016
I think I'm falling in love.
Not the cute and pretty kind,
but the mean and gritty type that
you worry is going to last too long.
Will I end up missing your face?
Watch it fade as those memories dim.
There's a reason it's called falling
and not floating nor gliding.

God, I hate falling in love.
Isn't it so peculiarly terrifying?
Roo Aug 2016
When you ask about one,
people tend to answer with another.

For example:
When you ask somebody
about love,
they tell you about
heart break.
Of physical pain
released through cathartic tears
and
the thumping pitter in your chest whenever you next see
their face.

And when they ask about
my boyfriend
I speak loudly and proudly
of my girlfriend's soft lips
and her love that echoes
as though she had brought light
unto my very essence.

When they ask about
the feel of the earth,
they talk not of the
touch and feel and gritty
texture
but the damp, rotting
smell discretely placed
for you to oppose.

So tell me, friend,
if I were to ask:
Have you had a good day?
Would you answer with the
time your dearest made you
cry
with laughter,
or would you answer with
the void that ***** the
laughter away?
hope y'all enjoy! I wrote this after somebody suggested writing about the positives of a seemingly negative situation as a form of therapy. It's definitely a refreshing way to look upon things!
rootsbudsflowers Aug 2016
My house is a closet
And I spend my days peeking through the cracks
In the door.

Trying to get out
While you cling to the keys
And lock me inside.
I am gay, bi, lesbian, lgbtq. I am not a title. I am love. People turn that into a terrible, *****, ugly thing. Why? Why does my love make you uneasy? And what gives you the right to have a say in it. It breaks my heart that people will discount me  for such a lovely thing. I am not ashamed. I am not embarrassed. I am sad. And a bit alone.
Gabrielle Aug 2016
Neck bent a little far to the right
Impressions of sheets in skin wrapped too tightly around willing wrists
Makeshift bandages for cuts that have closed but still bleed.
You must be out for coffee
Or on a call that couldn't wait
But Sunday's are for rain and dreams you can't quite remember
And secrets tucked in a leg bent at the knee.
I can't tell the difference between lust and love making anymore though I'd like to still believe in the latter.
You return and I lose myself in the corner of your eye and I hang myself there on those lines
Allowing myself to kiss you there just once for fear of becoming too entangled
A sweet suicide that'd be
Gasping for air
Lost in your laughter
August 14, 2016 (draft)
Joanna Rose Jul 2016
Hands roaming
Skin touching
Eyelashes fluttering
You are so lovely

Soft brown eyes
Dilated pupils
Quiet moans
I love you I love you I love you

Parted lips
Messy kisses
I just want you
She whispers

My love and I
Holding hands as our bodies unwind
I think she saw God
I think I did too
I wrote this about a girl that doesn't exist, and it's very messy because I just kind of wrote it and didn't really stop to think about it.
gray rain Jul 2016
Sexuality is like colours
There is something between
Black and white
It's grey
I'm not in between somewhere, I just felt like writing this.
Holey Jul 2016
We struggle with what our parents taught us
That it was wrong to love the same gender
That we need to stay away from the colored folk
That thin people were beautiful and thick was unhealthy
and to stay away from the weird ones.
Even that if you have *** before you're married, you're a *****
and if they aren't Jesus lovers then they were raised poorly.
They taught us money and looks over love
and that an animal is just an animal.
They taught you wrong.
Love is love no matter the gender
A person is a person no matter the color
No matter the weight
No matter the appearance
No matter the personality
No matter the ****** activity
No matter the religion
and an animal is not just an animal.. It's a life.
Your parents taught you wrong
So I will teach you right.
rootsbudsflowers Jul 2016
I'm tired of hiding
Behind playful banter
And casual laughter.

I'm bisexual.
And I'm so **** tired
Of pretending that I'm not.

Why does it matter really
If I'm so willing to love?
This is a thing that should be praised,
Not hidden away.

If it's what's on the inside
That matters the most,
Then why are we so concerned
About what sort of genitalia
Someone has
In order
To love them.
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