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The home she never had—
the one she always dreamt of.
A picture-perfect, loving family,
with a supportive dad,
a gentle, caring mom,
and an older sibling who protected her.

A home without fights,
without slammed doors,
without the quiet sobs
behind bathroom walls,
or the midnight tears
that no one saw—
because if they did,
they’d only judge.

A home where she didn’t have to hide,
where she could speak without fear,
where anxiety didn’t live in her chest
like a shadow that never left.

A place where she didn’t need to write
just to feel heard—
because someone, finally, listened.

Where love wasn’t something
she searched for in strangers’ arms,
because she had felt it
right there, at home.

She built that home in dreams each night—
because it never stood where she lived.
the home i never got to have
Every starless night arises
The rigid feelings beneath my ribs can't be pared
It is always alongside the beast
My eyes are full of desire
My hands dull and stiff
All I can see is the barren land

Wandering where's the place
I should lay down this head?
Drowned by punishment, I found nothing
In the depths of my deflection, I seek inside
What deserves to be embraced?

While on my bones
darkness carved precisely
The sturdy dance and reckless getaway
Adorned by whisper, the devil's own
I betrayed the war within myself
Back to back, against the storm

But the divine sheds light on me

Leads my way to this home
Where flowers gracefully bloom.

I fight for reborn
Demanding my own honour
by blood and name

For now, I see it
Their existence is my sacred salvation
A reminder that life is worth adoring
For all of you,
My beloved kingdom and family.
Yash Shukla Jul 11
जन्म दिलास तूच मला,
आणि तूच मला वाढविलं,
सोनेरी दागिन्यासारखं एकदम
तूच मला घडविलं.

कधी चुकलो तर ओरडलीस मला,
कधी प्रेमाने जवळ घेतलंस,
कधी लागेल असं बोललीस मला,
कधी काळजीने पांघरूण घातलंस.

झेलल्यास माझ्या अडचणी
स्वतःवर तू सर्व,
आईसारखं नातं बनवणारा
थोडाच आहे तो निसर्ग.

कितीही काहीही झालं तरी
नाही देणार मी तुला अंतर,
आयुष्याच्या शेवटपर्यंत तुझ्यावर
प्रेम करीन मी निरंतर.
ही कविता ०६ जून २०२० रोजी लिहिलेली आहे
ASLRC Jul 11
You told everyone you were a care bear
But you don’t know how to handle my heart

You don’t know what it means to care
Because otherwise my heart wouldn’t be ripped apart

You told everyone you would fight for me
and would go through fire like a bold beast

You only fight for money and power, can’t you see?
You toss me around like prey, celebrate it like a feast

oh you, you beautiful bear, you stuffed with jealousy bear
you use your claws on me, you show me you are the silverback

And you hurt me so deeply, I don’t think that is care
which is odd, because bears don’t like leaders of a pack

I tried to stuff myself back together with needles and thread
but my eyes are leaking and my mouth stays taped

you want me to sit still and look like every other zombie-head
Mary wrote a book about me, in which I was monster-shaped

I wish you held me, consoled me, supported me and not like a ripped bear
because that is what it actually means to care
bella Jul 10
Why didnt you take my heart with you?
sobbing so violently
my ache breaks
b
      a
              r
                        r
                                 i
                                         e
                                                 r
                                                       s.
windows b r e a k once the note hit me
where my hurt is out my chest now.

delayed-
but sumcummed to,
where my heart is only
ha lf.
sound is silent once i reach our home,
as
     loud
             as
                 my
                      tears
                               can
                                      be
                                           now.
But they cant break between
the b a r r i o r
of
dead and alive,
and im broken but alive.
ur
     dead
               and
                      broken.
ha lf
my heart with you.
if only he **** my art with,
i would be set free,
he and me.

Comfort in no more future possibilities.
a sore heart,
without he,
each throb burning.
i hope till theres
nothing left-
your only form now:
a
    s
        h
        e
           s.
my childhood dog died and it led to dark feelings :c
My grandpa said some harsh stuff,
I wondered if he’d had enough.
I tried not to cry,
Deep down, I hoped he knew why.

He said “Gender’s not even real”,
And anyone who thinks so should just deal.

I said, “They/them” folks want to be seen,
As people, not some in-between.
It didn’t seem silly or wrong to me,
In fact, I felt a kind of key.

A few years on, I learned to speak—
With sharper words, and less critique.

I fell and lost a ski,
The man helping called me a he.
I really loved it,
I didn’t know why but I did.

What should “being a woman” mean?
Does grandpa think I’m making a scene?

I never liked Disney princesses,
I hated wearing dresses.
I did like football,
Gender felt like a big brick wall.

My long hair, was to much to bear,
Cutting it off was a grasp for air.

Now my grandpa thinks I look like a boy,
I can’t help but think of gender as a toy.
A game you can cheat, but never quite win,
A myth I’ve stopped believing in.

Grandpa cling to a truth so small,
While I see no sense in a wall at all.
I am female. But if you approach me as a he or they or anything I won’t mind. I don’t rly like football, and I’ve grown to love dresses. But now wear them because I want to not because anyone expects me to.
Izan Almira Jul 10
Metal against metal.
Food is no longer warm against the tongue.
The clink of glasses breaks the white,
still emptiness surrounding the family.
Apprehensive glances are exchanged
when politics are discussed
as the future looms over them like a prophecy
that makes it all feel doomed.
I wrote this thinking of Spain's politics, which are tense- we have literal murderers (people who used to be part of a terrorist group who placed bombs on supermarkets, killed children, assassinated a mayor, and exploded cars on random streets) and delinquents on the presidency, our president is a power-starved hypocrite that excuses his corruption with the fact that his party is the left, and the far-right are homophobic, transphobic, racist and misogynistic jerks. They don't allow us to get over Franquism (A fascist dictatorship that took place decades ago), and they constantly bend the past to their liking in order to manipulate us into voting for them. The people at power act as if, if the right gets to the government, our country will suddenly become fascist again. What’s worse? That I say all of this being a proud leftist, queer person. Our left party no longer defends what it was made to, but only seeks the best ways to get money in their pockets. We can no longer vote without forgiving corruption.

The funny part of this is that it could have been written about any country, specially the US, which is basically the new ******* ******. It is scary to think that right now, I am like a jew that lives outside Germany and sees his siblings get harassed. It makes me sick.

When we talk about politics, I get this hopeless feeling that I will never be able to medically transition and that the only thing stopping a war from taking place in my country is this universal fear of confrontation every hispanian has. Even though I know that that second thought comes from panic rather than objective data. We are so good at ignoring our political situation, that we think we’re doing great most of the time— until it gets brought up.

So yeah, you’ll hear me listening to punk music like it’s the **** national hymn (I’m tired and sick and that is all I can do to rebel)
Charmour Jul 10
If tears were red,
they'd have seen —
my white pillow stained by morning,
red marks blooming on the bedsheet,
on my face,
on my shirt.
My eyes, still puffy,
still red
from the bleeding of the night before —
not from wounds,
but from weeping.
Eyes not meant to bleed,
yet they did.

And still,
no one noticed
the colourless blood I’ve spilled.
i wish my eyes never bled.......
Lostling Jul 10
If I was a melody
Then you would be the harmony
Cause you would be the part of me I lack

And if I was the moon above
Then you would be the sun I love
Yeah you would be the light that I reflect

And I don’t know what I would do without you
All I know is this

The stars could die a million miles away
The earth could shake and cities blaze
Still I would love you—fire, snow or rain
I’d hold you, keep you safe from all the pain
A song draft I finished but abandoned
Bacchus was the title
Conferred to those responsible for ¹"gardening."
Zagreus, lineage of Zeus but son to ²Hades, bore another title.
The "Zageuri" lead in the night.
There were no feasts of raw flesh, but many dances and celebrations while they tended to "The Great Fire."
Of the Zageuri, Zagreus lead.
The title, rendered in Latin, is like Noctus Rex.
You see, on islands, humans have the capacity for an incomparable amount of exertable control over that of their environment.
Those of the lineage Zeus & ³chosen sons of the "God" had, along with the Baccuhi, relocated or slayed the majority of the island's predators.
All those who would not be or could not be companions, like Lupus & Lybica.
The few remaining were nocturnal.
The relocation or slaying of them, any & all nocturnal predators,
Fell to those responsible for when Darkness dawned & Night reigned.
Those "descendants"  of Hades, lineage of Zeus.
And in that, "The Great Hunt," we found among the elusive,
As we had found among the obvious,
Many other intelligent animals.
Many welcomed companions.
Wherein was birthed the Zageuri title,
Noctus.

The Nocti, the owls.

Gardeners in their own right,
Yet still hunters.
1 - Scale, methods, resources expended, et cetera are closer to what we would call terraforming. Proto-terraforming.

2 - Hades being in charge of the "night shift," within this context. Nyx of his lineage. Hades of the lineage of Kronos, but son to Khaos.

3 - As in, they themselves proved they were worthy enough to make their own decisions. They are "children" because they have chosen. Chosen that specific order/family.
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