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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
Stephanie Dec 2018
i almost want to laugh at how much i wanted you
sleepless nights. countless.
wondering if I was even a thought on your mind.
if ever the possibility of us fluttered with one beat.
544 days
even if it was for a split second, in a prayer or a curse
you were there. marring everything that i'd built

*
it's funny. He always gives us what we need.
all i needed was something to sully this fabricated sustenance that i wanted so badly to believe in
&
here it is.
Kelly Marie Dec 2018
I long for the unknown
but like a bird trapped in a cage
I'm too afraid to do anything about it.
My mind is merely a dream
A lullaby of uncertainty and doubt
covered up with a fake smile I've painted on,
the perfect disguise.

No one knows of my fleeting thoughts
My unattainable daydreams
the secret fantasies
I keep those hidden just for me.

I'm not the person they think I am
the light is dimmer and darker than it appears
It may surprise you if you ever saw it
but you won't.

Like a magician a dreamer doesn't give up their secrets
tucked away in the corners of my thoughts
only reappearing when I allow myself to wander
away from my ordinary life
a place I can indulge in my desires,
my daydream.
Bernice Helena Dec 2018
Caged marionette, dance for me
Your glass chains hold no reins
It's time to break free.
The Light only shows you known lanes,
I will lead you down greater plains.

Your gaze is uncertain,
You falter ever so slightly.
Fear not, lost kitten,
I am yours for eternity.

Young Antoinette, come to me
A train of sorrow ー your best dress
So throw away that leaden pedigree.
The old masters may try to oppress,
Noble heartache you must suppress.

You take one last look
As I wait for thee,
At the safe sullen rook,
A prison it will no longer be.

Naive brunette, sway with me
For the heart and soul you sold,
Was it not I who answered your plea?
Tonight, we shall step past a new threshold,
Its whereabouts ー to God and enlightened beings, untold.

In darkness and damnation,
You remain smitten with me.
With no fear or salvation,
We waltz through tragedies.
His name is Mr. D
Monica Sarpong Dec 2018
Don’t you just want to hold him close to you? Or is it only me?
Look at those eyes, as bright as a polished diamond brightening the finger of an awaiting bride.  
You can’t look at them twice.
Holy God! when I thought there was no perfection.  
Well mark these words, “he is perfect”.
If looks could be a symbol of heroism,
gift him the warrior’s lantern for he descends as a hero.

The beautiful smile drawing your lips into a curvy appreciating grin.  
A man in a goddess ensemble.
My eyes are heavenly blessed to behold such a testament.
Oh! That amazing voice, let he sing me amazing grace and I will amazingly be graceful.
Beautiful perfect lips moving from side to side whilst he speaks.  
The voice, violently drawing you down your knees.

Oh, sweet heavens, why curses with a saint of looks?
There exist no ounces of perfection enough to deserve his glorious presence.
And a gentleman too, goddess of my ancestors, what great temptation.  

Permit me to do nothing but sit to watch him speak.  
Perfection, the being brought to tempt my honour.
Daydreaming the movements and triggers tingling inside my untamed structure.
Reminiscing on what could, would and want with no sense of shame nor control.
My eyes dazzling without shame nor guilt.
Mesmerised and tempted to act in accordance to this electric pull.

Oh my God!!!, My alarm goes off, please tell me it’s not a dream.
I wrote this poem at the age of 16.  That's a pretty long time ago. Of course, due to maturity,  I have had to update it but I still get the same buzz.  Enjoy!!!
AuEcologica Dec 2018
Queen and king of the winter kingdom revived their very first child; the child fell from the sky;
it vanished on a warm cheek, though the little child was not alone—if had plenty of siblings.
Snowflakes of the queen and king rained from the sky, covering the northern isle;
as they fell they aged; they danced; they screamed of joy.

Winter has come to greet the world, in a white dress; in a breeze of cold; in darkness;
also, it welcomes the world through the little white lights falling.
The children of the queen and king greet all the species below, with tiny little hugs and kisses;
short in their life, but wonderous to the world as they fall.

Be greeted children of ice; of nothing warm; of winter long, we salute you back.
As your siblings will fall, remember you are beautiful, not always fondly remembered but beautiful.
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