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Orchid Dec 2019
I steal love with

the

part of my lips,

the

fall of my chin,

the

reverence in my temples,

//

so I scoff with

my

unblessed prayer,

my

impossible keeper,

my

wretched skin,

my

faultless pleasure,

//

and grace swoons,

puts me back in my place,

mutters sin in my mouth,

tightens grip in my hips,

stokes flame in my skin,

//

threads pain

inside,

weaves mind

inside,

names fear

inside,

makes more

inside,

//

and I am unfeeling of pardon,

unwanting of heaven,

ungoverned by god,

not bothered, on purpose,

not waiting on mercy,

//

and I stand with the evil,

the blind,

the kind,

the pained

and the stained,

and steal love with them,

because

//

we are unneeded by hell.
avoid binary questions.
Sunny Aug 2019
Despite their protests
And transphobic comments
We went on the date we had planned
Not caring about their demands

Sure, I was nervous as hell
And I could tell she was as well
And maybe we didn't talk much
But none of that mattered when I met her touch

Our hands interlocked in a silent agreement
That no matter what they said, we would ignore their treatment
There were so many things I wanted to do or say
But all that will come on another day.

When I first sat at that table
A sort of aura filled the air, it was unstable
Even though I knew they wouldn't change their ways
My eyes still met your beautiful gaze.
Harri Jul 2018
I am a woman.
Or so I'm told.
But how can I be a woman,
When the me in the mirror
Doesn't match the me in my head,
Because I just can't comprehend
Seeing ****?
When I want to peel my skin off
Because it itches at the seams,
Of the stitched in expectations
Of my ***?
When the people all around me
Laugh and say “it's natural”
When I dare to express my discomfort,
And it seems I'm the only one
Who struggles with the day to day
Of existing as a “miss”,
And my name doesn't fit unless it's shortened?
So I strap down my chest
So you can't see it.
But still my face screams woman,
And my voice
And my hips
And that ever ******,
Mother ******* “MISS”.
I know my **** are still there,
Their discomfort physical now,
Not just a mental ache.
And every month I bleed,
And it's like my body's betraying me.
But the whole world says that's just the way it is.

I'm tired of the way it is.
I'm tired of your boxes.
I climb out of one
To be kicked into another,
Not a woman, fine.
So I must want to be a man?
I must want to join the ranks
Of the people that have disgusted me,
Debased me
And repulsed me?
Of the people making sport
Of the gender I have lived with?
No.
No.
I won't live with a gender,
With your ******* expectations,
Or your games
Or your stupid little boxes.
Pink,
Or blue?
I LIKE ******* BOTH.
I want hairy legs,
But not a hairy chest.
I don't want ****,
But I don't want a ***** either.
I want long hair,
Without assumptions I'm a girl.

I want to exist outside society.
It's broken.

— The End —