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sheetal sharma Dec 2018
I never received the love that I always dreamt of
I never received the love that I have  watched in movies
Maybe its all is just a dream maybe its all about fantasy.

What if there is no perfect love?? Or no happy endings?

Maybe it's all just a dream maybe its all about fantasy
chichee Dec 2018
Sometimes when I
light a cigarette,
I dream of the embers
burning down the line.
My fingers,
my whole body,
going up in smoke too.
The image hit me like a hurricane at night. Something short.
Noah Dec 2018
Golden laurel wreaths and golden wings
Crows that pecked at his eyes and legs
He had stopped fighting them off long ago
They were as integral part of him as the the tattoos on his spine that often nipped at his vertebrae

Koi fish with constellations glowing on their backs and lotuses growing out of eyes
Burning feathers steaming as they hit the waves
He had often watched the angel's fall
Many drowned when they sunk into the sea Wings of precious metals dragging them down into its depths

Bushes made of butterflies and trees held in the palms of scarred hands
Glowing leaves the only source of light in the dark world
He craved the brilliance of the sun
It's mighty beauty as it scorched the earth and dried the sea
Purging it of its demons

Glasses filled with moonbeams and dresses crafted from stars
Diadems of melted bones and cremated hearts
He watched from above them all
Burning the wings of butterflies and smoking cigarettes made from their ashes
Sweet smelling smoke drifting high into the void
Toni Dec 2018
The cobbled stones, awash by moon
The drunken laddies that sip and swoon.
To gaze upon the midnight beaut
Would parish ones will to that of Newts.

Thus lady’s hair does fall much like
A waterfall of pure moonlight.
With eyes of jewel and crystal light
Sets ones soul ablaze and heart, bright.

With opulent lips, does she possess
Such voice of tinkling bells distress.
With wisps of silver at loves cheeks
Gold flecks do twinkle at brows peek.

To tame such beauty is hopeless venture
Too many a drunk lad, sweet and tender.
To gaze upon midnights supple dream
Is to be more than merely heard, but seen.
I’ve been reading so much about the Fae, their feet keep tapping their way through my head!
Justinee Dec 2018
I am lusted after and I am singled out because of one thing I have to offer them.
I have something the average girl doesn’t have, I’m ‘a girl with a little extra’
I am their secret dream girl, their hidden desire.
They love to love me in secret.
They don’t see me as a person, they see their fantasy being fulfilled with me.
They don’t want to know my mind they just want to know how long I’ve been on hormones.
If my hair is real, if I had any surgery and you know what surgery I am talking they say with a no good smile.
Wow your face is so feminine looking, you would never know what hiding between your gorgeous thick legs.
Your body is perfect, your are not narrow you have full hips almost child barring.
Your delicate nose, your long blonde hair to your pouty lips you are perfect for this one night t girl.
They love my voice, they say its so **** and soothing.
I am a *** object to them, a pretty thing with ****, hips and a ****.
20 years of flesh on my body, and I still cant feel anything for it.
Yet these men do.
I am a delicacy, I am a rare indulgence for them.
Do you know how beautiful you are young t girl they ask me.
Why so empty t girl, why so lonely you could have any man you want for the night.
The night, that is all this body is worth to them.
My mind attacks my body like a foreign object, something that is not right or supposed to be.
Yet men find it so ****, like eating the forbidden fruit.
I am so tasty sweet and so unacceptable.
What will people think they say to me.
How can I be lusted after, but shamed for my body
Something they find so beautiful, so exotic
They love my porcelain skin, that is diluted with freckles they say they want to count each one I have.
Get naked t girl, that is all your body is good for, to be looked at let me adore you.
Yes I have a girlfriend but you are an exception, you are a rare commodity, your skin is baby soft, not rough there is no trace of man hood on you except the one thing below that makes me want you.
You are my fantasy t girl, you are what I think about at night when I am alone.
When I decline what they want, I am disgusting, I am a stain in the world, let me show you what happens to real women t girl, such a waste of a pretty face.
these men are so offended that 'someone like me' doesn't desire them they desire me.

yet how am I the fantasy?
these are some of the things I went threw, the dating life of the 20 y/o transgender female.
Maria Etre Dec 2018
The moment of truth
lies in the second
you end your poem
with an exhale
and you look
up
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