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Carlo C Gomez Jul 29
~
Somersaults
In the tall grass
Lutalica girl
In places on the run
Stretched out in her awakening
Removes the dress of her captivity
To introduce herself to those she loves
There's something deeply unknowable
And terrifying in the arrival of her liberty
Sprung forth out of the box
She started from

~
Lutalica: the part of your identity that doesn't fit into categories.
shatteredpoet Jan 2019
they glued labels
on my body
that won't come off
without removing pieces of myself
too
and it hurts
almost as much
as watching them
bend and twist
and break your
body
to fit you inside
a box your heart
has outgrown
stopdoopy Nov 2019
Two
Halves
Never one whole

Left
Right
But why not both?

Dividing me
Into "opposing" categories
But you can't have one without the other

Neither male
Or female
Simply both
happy birthday to me *****
Nagual Nov 2018
Red, green, red, green
He treads to the pace
Of a heartless machine

Black, white, black, white
Her thoughts neatly fall
Into holes of delight

Grey, brown, grey, brown
They sink in the snow
By the weight of a noun
Anya Sep 2018
When you look at me
You instantly stereotype
My glassses
My skin color
You can probably guess I’m book smart
You’d be right
You can guess I’m introverted
You’d be semi right
You can guess I’m not naturally very athletic
You’d be right
You can guess my ethnicity
You’d probably be right
You can guess a lot of things
And there’s a high chance you’d be right for many of them

But...

What about those things,
You’d never guess?
I bet you’d never believe I was a Goalie
You probably don’t know I write poetry
I’m learning Chinese
I ran six miles in fifth grade
I enjoy acting
I’m an atheist
I have a mild obsession with Asian light novels
The list goes on...

But still,
The point here is
There’s a lot of things you don’t see

About me

About everyone

I’m just as guilty of judging as anyone else
We humans tend to categorize,
A lot
...
But,
It’s
Often
Not
True
From the perspective of an American girl whose parents are from India.
Nicole Dawn May 2015
If you ask a scientist,
A human is a machine,
Life is a category,
And emotions are chemicals.

If a human is a machine,
Why can they hurt?
If emotions are chemicals,
They must be acid.
I think I'm in the wrong category.
Life can't hurt this bad.
No one would survive.

If I'm a machine,
I must have a rusty part.
Or two.
Or three.
Or many.
Or all.

If emotions are chemicals,
Mine must be ionized.
Unbalanced.
Unstable.
Unsure.

If you ask a scientist,
A human is a machine,
Life is a category,
And emotions are chemicals.

I'm not a scientist.
I was not in a good place when I wrote this...
Riley Oct 2014
Our heads are the most terrible place, you know.

And I’m glad that he cannot possibly exist there, not actually. If I try to fit him in my boxes, place him in my categories, I’ve removed every bit of his individuality.

Individuality is what makes us who we are. So if I remove the thing that makes him who he is, I’ve removed him entirely.

So it’s a paradox, you see.

The boy out there in the world cannot possibly exist in my head

yet I spend all my day thinking of him.

I’m thinking, rather, of the objectivity of who he is.

I like the idea of the object-boy — it’s simple, it makes sense.

The object-boy fits in all the right boxes, he slides right into my assumptions and conclusions.

He never has a care, he is perfect and is spotless and is happy and is robotic.

He is not real.

He cannot be real. And I’m so very happy, because perfect people tend to be a bore.
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