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nat Feb 2019
you believe i am the artist
i am just a dumb baby with an anchor for a mouth
it drags me down
to the bottom of the ocean
i can't get myself out
Xallan Jan 2019
I wake with a mango mind.
Brilliant, full of Hope,
without faith. I Rise, and wrestle with the sky.
My arms show no sign of falling off.
I see them,
where they always are, as always,
half dressed in their costume, Weary
at the edge of a of a crosswalk.
Their minds are discolored and contorted,
at odds with their perfect skin.
Their costume, once brilliant as I,
now without Lustre and gleam,

drags in the mud.
They whisper to themselves inside. I never listen, because I have better music.
Their skins peel away, and I shudder and hold mine close.
I pity them in their confusion. Their mind
addled without drugs, just
a mistake, in the massive mechanization of life.
I query the impulses, if they dribble into my pond.
Their cloudy eyes seek mine, their
grotesque hands reach out, their
****** threads threaten to entangle me, their
whispers crash upon my music

and they pump me full of mud.
They beg me to run and warn me to flee,
while desperately clutching at my shoes.
They shudder at my loss
and pity me in my great power.
They state the obvious, screeching
in high tones. They told me
the truth that I knew was a lie, but yet
I couldn't deny. They told me
to take a hammer to my mirror, and then
I might see part of them,
inside.
I'll smile today
I'll cry tonight
Cause everyday
Is a constant fight

I fight with myself
And everyone around
I want to be well
But life drags me down
Just a quick piece, enjoy
stopdoopy Dec 2018
Pluck one
Then two
Drag them out
As long as you want
Play the song of their hearts
Feelings as tight as you tuned them
Draw them in
So taunt
Until the chord breaks
Played me like a fiddle.
She is here
my own true sun
she loves so daft
that dawn springs forth
and before I die
she'll really eat pie
with her cute rind
and buffalo trim
that grocers hunker tide
while business bona fide
in her hand over rib
a kind little girl
Rob Cochran Jul 2018
Temblando al borde de la locura
Tratando de encontrar un centro de gravedad
Cortando mi circulación para hacer esta declaración
sobre mi habilidad natural como reina nacida
a caminar con tanta fabulosidad.
Aunque este vestido es una monstruosidad,
mi cabello es una curiosidad,
hay mucho acerca de este alto paso que no anticipé.
Por ejemplo cómo el balanceo de mis caderas
contrarresta el movimiento de mis dedos.
¿Quién sabía que habría tal orquestación?
Un cuerpo en concierto: ¡una ovación de pie!
Y cada paso otro encore,
Gritando delirantemente: "¡Más! ¡Más! ¡Más!"
Y de repente, el mundo es nuevo.
Nunca lo he visto desde este punto de vista.
Me sorprende la diferencia que unas pulgadas pueden hacer
para cambiar la realidad que ahora crea yo
Y aunque mis pies están apretados como tocones
en estas bombas de tacón de aguja de seis pulgadas,
un testimonio que debo profesar;
Qué maravilloso es ser
un muchacho en un vestido.
A recent translation from my poem "Birth of a Drag Queen" about a young man dressing in drag for the first time.
Asiah Mangham Jul 2018
Watch me as I cry
Watch me as I feel no reason why,
Watch me as I judge
Watch me as I drag myself through the
   mud.
summer heat
is smooth
thus behoove
a president
to make
the wall
and fight
to keep
the right
wing and
drag under
this tent
with steadfast
loyalty and
thier families
first will
bear arms
a note on immagration
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