erwood 1d
Being a person is hard because
When you want to be bad
You have to be good.
You have to keep doing
What you know that you should.

You want to be angry?
That stuff ain't allowed
You simply must snuff it out
You must be quiet- and anger is loud.

Being a person is hard because
When you need to be alone
People need you to be theirs.
And then suddenly you don't matter
Your life is consumed by their cares.

You want to have feelings?
Oh, we don't like those here.
We frown upon sadness
We don't accept fear.

Humankind sings the songs of freedom
And "goodwill to all men" too
But we help you forget that "all men"
Also means being good to you.

Being a person is theoretically easy
It's the strings attached that make it hard
But the strings- they tie you down and then
Like glass, they break you to a single shard.
uv Aug 4
When i look across the horizon,
Through the beauty of the muddled illusion,
Even a puddle of water looks like the never ending ocean.
JK Cabresos Jul 30
were you in love
with the feeling,
or with the person
you were trying
to become

you were disappointed
a hundred times,
hurting her

maybe you were just
by your expectations,
turned you
into holding on
to a ghost
Copyright ©2018
Mahra Jul 30
I built you a mountain and you tripped and fell and now there is a river of blood and I forgot how to heal broken hearts.
sometime in 2017
lotusflower5 Jul 28
Wicked eyes
Pretty lies
Strong fists

What everyone expects...
with a twist.
Dare to be different. Dare to be unique. Dare to be YOU.
Harri Jul 28
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 tits?
When I want to peel my skin off
Because it itches at the seams,
Of the stitched in expectations
Of my sex?
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 damned,
Mother fucking “MISS”.
I know my tits 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?
I won't live with a gender,
With your fucking expectations,
Or your games
Or your stupid little boxes.
Or blue?
I want hairy legs,
But not a hairy chest.
I don't want tits,
But I don't want a penis either.
I want long hair,
Without assumptions I'm a girl.

I want to exist outside society.
It's broken.
In a society
Governed by economic fundamentalism
Love can seem
"I love you."
"When is payback time?"
Better to practice
I loved you
like I was never hurt before

You left me
like you'd never hoped for more
GreenTrees Jul 11
Sipping a cold beer by the river's edge.

Small boats passing nearby.

Divers hanging by the sun beaten ledge.

Kids laughing being kids.

The beauty of life reflecting in the rippled waters.

And in the cool shade of the trees

I look to her and we smile

and then we say goodbye.
Allison M Jul 16
Unrealistic expectations cascade down upon us;

Never ending turbulence of decisions needing to be made throws us off course;

Mistakes protrude from the murky water,

Threatening to smash our hopes and dreams;

Until we finally reach the blissful bay of calm,

We realize our river journey was worth the fight,

And we are not alone.
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