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Todd Monjar Mar 2017
Fierce swept demons of rage and turmoil; expecting their want yet receiving disloyal resistance.

Never satisfied from the thirst of unrelenting desire for certainty, frustrated in fits of insanity. The beat continues…

Dissipation is anti-climactic, unsatisfying to a gluttonous hoarder of familiarity. Never quite becoming the salve.

So lay down and succumb to the soothing velvet of green moss and the intoxicating tumble of liquid solitude; enveloping and layering a thickening skin of joy.

Imagine a melting slide of pure being, unquestioned and reminiscent into a pool of weightless flutter; ecstatic without direction and blissful in anticipation.

All that exists now is breath and the pinpoint endlessness of possibility.
Ceeam Jul 2016
Biodiversity, an abstract term used in natural science,
Meaning diversity of life in a diversity of places.
Tonight I really feel all the compliance,
With this term occuring in my life in so many cases.

I have both positive and negative associations,
If I relate biodiversity to my own life.
It kind of explains all the complications,
On the road to when and where I thrive.

When I look at myself in the mirror,
I see the diversity in my face.
Both soft like a mother and severe like an emperor,
And my hair looks like it's from another race.

It is curly and it is dark,
While my skin is quite pale.
Blue eyes which sometimes brightly spark,
But other times greyish and frail.

Some moments I feel hyper,
like I'm going to explode.
I talk, walk, jump and stir,
and my brain says 'overload'.

Other moments however I feel calm and peace,
I lay down just quietly watch the sun.
Concentrated on every breath I release,
A warm ambiance like that of a mum.

Some mornings I feel like I'm the sexiest ******* the planet,
I take a red dress and let it slip over my hips.
Walk on 15 cm heels like my feet are made of granite,
And merely hope to use my red coated lips.

Other times even my jogging pants don't seem to fit,
I feel like the uggliest girl in town and only see disgust.
I watch useless YouTube videos infinite,
Because everything else feels like a must.

I can go on with this poem for a long time,
But it makes no sense.
It is just that with this rhyme,
I put on paper the doubts, thoughts and experience.

The biodiversity in me,
I like it and I do not.
But what I more and more see,
Is a swarm of different butterflies rather than an intwined knot.

Life is so **** special,
Intense and deeply exciting.
I think it is crucial,
Not to do too much hiding.

Enjoy the biodiversity in yourself,
Like a beautiful forest on a hill.
So many different species,
Crowded, changing and intertwined, but together, still.
I want to believe
Im who I want to be
But what if who I want to be
Isn't who I'm meant to be
Im meant to be who I am
Im gonna be who Im meant to be
cassidy May 2016
I lost myself today.

standing in the rain
my umbrella dropped, forgotten
half submerged in the puddle
my boots squelching in the mud.

dancing to the rhythmic patter
each drop washing away
the molecules of pretence
mascara streaming down my cheeks.

inhibitions, fears, anxiety
gradually dissolved
by the universal solvent
leaving me naked.

leaving me, me.
why is rain so **** poetic
Vincent Folkes May 2016
My whole life Iitried to live in the body I was given
The body I am in
Growing up I never “saw the signs”
I never knew that there was anything else I could possibily be
I never knew that I was going to change
Or that there was anything else
Something. Someone better that I could be
Someone who is more comfortable in their skin
I had no idea that the reflection I saw staring back at me everyday in the mirror was not me at all
Ive noticed that ive felt different from how I was taught to feel
Ive found out a lot of things in my life so far
But I never thought I would find myself being envius of boy
Not because I disliked them but because I wanted to be like them
I found myself not wanting boys
But wanting to dress like them
Not wanting boys
But wanting to walk like them
Not wanting boys
But wanting to have my hair short like theirs
To have a “boys” hair cut
I found myself not wanting a boyfriend
But wanting to be someones boyfriend
I found myself realizing that so many girls have that muscular physique
I thought it was normal because other girls looked like that

So maybe I can too?
I tried to fit myself in the categories I saw others in
Girls. Boys like girls. Girls like girls too
I like girls. Im a girl that likes girls
But I do not want to be a muscular girl
I shouldn’t be in this body
So why am I?
Why does my mom strictly tell me not to pick flannels when were in the store
Have conversations with my stepdad saying
She wants to be….
But how can she…
If shes not even..
How can she?
She doesn’t like showing skin she tells him
Im too angry to listen to rest
But then he says
Im not saying its right but its her
HE SAID IM NOT SAYING ITS RIGHT
HE SAID IM NOT SAYING ITS RIGHT
WHAT IS RIGHT!?
I was certainly a fool
He never did accept me huh?
That. Is .Right.
But in my eyes im struggling with confusion
The illusion of my body and what I have now
Is the not the reflection of the real. Me
I found myself listening to other peoples stories and comparing myself to them
I should feel the same way because you have to feel the same as everyone else to be trans
But I didn’t. So I brushed the feelings away
Let them fade.
Blind to similarities
Frustrated because I had no idea who, or what I was
I looked at so many peoples stories
And the one thing I didn’t take from them all until the end was
They were all different
NEVER WERE THEY IDENTICAL
SIMILAR
NOT IDENTICAL
SIMILAR
NOT IDENTICAL
WHO
Am
I
Who am I if I am not the same
I am different
I am not supposed to have the same realizations as everyone else
The entire time I was looking around for answers from other people
Truly I knew exactly where the answer was
But. The feeling of trepidation was all my mind knew for the first few weeks of searching
I found myself thinking some more
This house is only bringing me down
Can I just get out of here?
I found  myself wondering  why she loved to prevent me from doing things I loved
The same ones that praise you
Are the same ones that hate you
I am me. Alittle bit different than most.
But im me
I found myself, while writing this poem
Racheal McKnight Mar 2016
There are always ways to improve,
Who you really are.
You don't have to always be the same,
To shine just like a star.

You can reinvent yourself,
In more ways than one.
But the changes you are making,
Will never be done.

Your personally changes,
Each day that you grow older.
As long as you try your best,
You can destroy your problems like a bolder.

So try and reinvent yourself,
And change yourself for the better.
It will help you find yourself along the way.
And you can be your own trendsetter.
Colleen Mary Jan 2016
call it the year of uncertainty.
stuck waiting for my days to feel less confusing and for myself to stop feeling so **** dizzy as a result.
can't stop pondering what crazy ride
this year has in store me.
i thought the change last year brought about was exhilarating
yet exhausting. all i can hope is that
someway, somehow i'm ready for what this year is going to bring.
maybe this is the year sparks finally fly for me in the romance department
or maybe this is the year i fully grow to discover and love myself first.
or maybe this is the year i break down because my heart gets shattered into more pieces than it can handle.
or possibly worse this might be the year i fully lose myself in the whirlwind of my own life.
i really don't know, all I do know is i hope and pray to keep my sanity.
early in the am pondering about how this year of my life is going to play out.
Mayah Aug 2015
The faucet drips
It makes no sound because no attention is paid,
the foggy mirror is wiped to prepare for a day,

Unimportant are the events, as well the faucet

Sense of dread unbeknownst, Brushed away blindly in haste
Average woes of life announced, The mind reacts in practiced hate
The faucet drips
The echo is an ambience to the silent screams of the soul,
The foggy mirror is wiped in irony unknown

The pattern remains the same

But a desire for change, fills the spirit loud
With the same power that opens eyes, and fills the ears with sound
The faucet drips
A head is turned in utter astonishment, like a newborn to Earth's offerings
A divine mystery is answered simply

To questions never asked, answers are received

The faucet is ceased and the foggy mirror is wiped in true reflection
A mind is put to ease and rests in peace
While a spirit is born through an inner see section,

Remainder of days will be filled with Zen
Because

The faucet will never drip again**

© Copyright 2015 Mayah
Make sure your faucet isn't dripping...  
a.k.a(The 3 stages of being)
Reyna N Jul 2015
Still finding myself. This **** is hell.
Looking for silent peace
Looking for something more
Have you ever had such a dark soul?
The kind that even monks can't ignore.
Looking for that silent peace
Where my mind is relaxed and your name doesn't appear
Looking for tranquility near the water where my tears can flow and connect to the sea
I'm still finding myself. With every breath, with every break I'm still trying to find me.
Kay Mar 2015
I lost myself once-
Twice-
Once?
More times than I care to count.

I searched for my reality
In dark corners,
Zigzagging alleyways,
And the hearts of others.

I found nothing
But fear,
Pain,
And shame.

I avoided mirrors
And instead reflected on myself
I was there all along,
Waiting to be seen.
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