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I write poetry
and paint sunsets with those words
I lie on rooftops
until the sky's adorned with birds
I dream with music in my mind
and in colours you haven't heard of
To you,
I am beautiful
I am something different
I will fill the hole in you
your emptiness brimming with laughter
I will lift your feet off the earth and plant them into my heart
but you will keep digging -
trying to unbind my roots
But I am not gentle, as that flower
You cannot like what you see, and pluck me out of the water
I am not what I seem on the surface
I am a flood
and I leave destruction in my wake
I will wash away all the paths you've ever walked on
and I will leave you astray
if you'll ever find your way back
topacio Apr 21
keeping your femininity
after you've
weathered unimaginable storms
is a high form
of rebellion.
When a little girl plays with her doll

sometimes she'll check for a fever

she sees no bruise when she looks over the legs

she feels no pulse when she tries the arms

but she nurses it back to health -

that's her looking to bring back a smile never lost

When an adolescent girl falls in dance class

sometimes she'll check for broken bones

she sees no damage on her legs

she helps herself up using her own arms

and she returns to her ballet

that's her looking to do well at the recital

When a grown woman checks her ex's profile

sometimes she'll be searching for a sign

no signs she can see, as she pulls up her knees

that they miss her back, while she scratches her hands

but she continues to look

that's her looking for a change of mind that will never happen -

that's her wishing a change of mind was visible, so she can stay that's why she still looks.
This was originally one or two lines long so and a reviewer got confused so I decided I had to lengthen it. I do need to do longer poetry in general to be honest, my writing is usually way too short :/
Rose Amberlyn Jan 24
Mother moon,
In the dark.
Weird, reckless, moody,
With energy that could spark.
Illuminating femininity.
The parts of you,
Hidden from the world,
For fear of harsh words.
She's beautiful.
Shes strong and exact,
And necessary.
Shining in the dark,
Lover of the light.
Spacecadet Dec 2019
Beneath my skin lies an ocean
into which you swim.
Moonlight shadows
beams of light.
These are my joys and my mothers dreams and tears.
For as I gently soothe your troubled skin
So to ships do I sink
Mother and lover, daughter, obedient wife
my wet within me gives and holds life.
We nurture, we love, we strive to do right
But the pain of our ocean beats a heavy drum
Upon our hearts, our thighs.
History repeats itself.
Its not simple to relearn.
The bird can only sing its mother father song.
Instinctively we gather, that which we know.
Planets form and then they grow.  
My father didn’t see his mother smile
and I wish I would mine.
Wrecks of old ships lie dormant quietly in my bed
When sailors were lost or found.
But amongst the ruins there will one day be life
a new world of corals and forest within which my children will swim
Quietly sitting buried in time 
today will be history and tomorrow we will be loved, safely
for our feminine again.
My water, it may sink.
It distorts the song of my eternally loving soul
it drowns those too timid to swim
it rocks the boats that seek fleeting beauty of the shore
it fights those who contain it, force it to take another shape
but within these tides, these rivers of my love
these dangerous depths of deep and dark blues
lives all of my love
for every one of you. 
Just as tears are born from the eyes of laughter.
My oceans are born from the feelings of my love for you.
And I wait. For the brave, gentle, scuba diver
to find the treasures hidden amongst the wasteground of the sunken ships
Skye Dec 2019
Remember me
The one you didn’t know you needed
All woman, soft tender wet
With curves that made you hard
And drew forth your animal
Remember my ocean
Waters deep you dive into
Liquid sweet to quench you
Remember the fire
That burned my resistance
It burns still
The Phoenix woman rises
Time and again
She lifts you up
For it is now your time
To shine
Slay those demons that pull you down
Remove distractions and noise
Allow the pressure to reveal facets of greatness you have yet to discover
That I see so clearly
Rise my beloved
Rumble with your terror, this beast of vulnerability, wrestle that bear to the ground
And emerge victorious
I will be here upon your return
Nourished within myself,
Empowered in my work and my life
Ripe with readiness
To feed your starving
To nourish your weary
To feast on mutual desire
And remind you who you are
Tina RSH Dec 2019
No, poetry is not written in books
by scholars. It is etched upon
Lips that shape the sweetest murmurs
and bellow bare bitter truth
frantic as a madman, poetry
Held up with bra straps
and masked beneath an underwear
Hot, Succulent, lavish
Just that feminine, poetry
With all the morons who aim
to grasp it through stories
of a man and his lost love, poetry
is windswept hair and hips in motion
and twilight tears that flow like an ocean
poetry, with its complex simplicity
is a woman who reads bible in a *******
and wears bubblegum skirts to funerals
Tasted, embraced, kissed, licked, felt,poetry
can never be read..or understood.

Tina RSH
Arisa Oct 2019
the night air is cold on my back; naked
white, glistening in moon's light
the glint of her silver combs my hair
caresses the cheek of all who dare gaze beyond
her lustrous face.

dotted by pearl freckles that pale her complexion,
brings beauty to nightfall.

o blissful treasure,
take me in my ascent
to your humble home
of crag and dust.

my celestial shore rests on the lunar frontier;
tucked in the embrace of space.
Another poem about my muse.
Elle Brookes Oct 2019
Come dance with us.
All glowing skin and long hair.
Come dance with us.
You with your gentle touches and sharp eyes.
Come dance with us.
With all your deep cutting love and laughter like a coyote in the night.
Come dance with us.
Bearing your toothy smile,
Offering your kindest words,
Compassion dripping from your mouth,
Blood dripping from your hands.
Come dance with us.
Arden Sep 2019
Hey dysphoric trans girl,

I see you.
Your outfit is really cute today.
And I'm really proud of you for getting
Our of bed with such grace.
The weight of dysphoria is heavy
Let me carry it with you.
You're essential to the world we live in.
You're more than a trending topic.
Your bodies existence is a radical act
And it's survival is worthy of celebration
Disappointment *****.
Being able to still be disappointed
Means you are engaged in your life.
You are an active player.
That's good!
Every part of you is a girl.
Especially the part you don’t like today.
Your voice, hands, and feet are feminine
What else could they be

A dysphoric trans boy
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