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Fangs are sprouting from my skull,
you cannot stop what must be done.
Bound indoors with curtains drawn,
until moon takes the place of sun.

Needle sharp teeth puncture your skin,
the transformation has begun.
I whisper something in your ear,
your human form and gender, none.

When coven blood out-thickens water,
we have just started all the fun.
Vampires have to stick together,
no mother, father, daughter, son.
This poem is meant to create a parallel between the transgender experience and that of a vampire. The duality between two different transformations both fueled by puncture wounds, as well as the pattern that happens after you come out. Once one person in a community is out of the closet, oftentimes others follow because they feel safer to do so. This is not a critique of my community. Trans folks are not monsters. However, sometimes we are ostracized and treated as if we were. I think I'd be proud to be a vampire, too.
Anya 6d
On the girl's side:

Are you going to winter formal?
No, I wish I was. They even have a candy bar.

On the boy's side:

Theoretically, if I was to consume cyanide...
You know you could...

On the girl's side:

Look at how perfectly I filled the gel!
Yeah, girl power!

On the boy's side:

Who filled the gel C?
I'll use you for my source of error.

On the girl's side:

Eugh, beef tacos:
I never eat them, only paninis and pizza...sometimes

On the boy's side:

Ooh, beef tacos!
Finally something good to eat.

I find myself smiling. It is true, I'm only describing a tiny microcosm
Not nearly enough,
to make conclusions

Aligning to stereotypes?

Maybe, I don't know
But I do know,
While listening,

I was fighting to keep a smile off my face
How funny people can be when you remove yourself from
Main character to audience
shatteredpoet Jan 15
i donot play the part
of a princess or a
damsel
i am
the dragon.
the soldier.
the knight.
I ran like a wolf. Always trying to keep up. “Wait!” my aunts would scream, but I was off before they could stop me. The tiny dark haired girl, among a pack of five young boys. They would always utter “can you? ”. I’d ball up my tiny fists and say “yes”. Scraped knees, ****** fingernails, sprained ankles, and those bruised greens and yellows suspended on my back like floating clouds, although painful to the touch, none were enough to stop me. I was always competing. Always trying to make them eat their words  “You can’t do it; you are a girl”.


Now that we’re older, I’m inclined to ask them how those words tasted.
I do not have any sisters. I grew playing with my cousins and my brother. All of them were boys. I tried to touch upon my experience as the only girl growing up.
Have you seen me?
I'm missing.

In a little town,
that I've been around,
I've found the one
and only hole in hundreds
leading to a separate world
below.

Asphalt and all,
cold hearts,
nearly bare feet travel lengthy
streets, small in complaint.

Asphalt and all,
dead brains,
nearly there, but wrapped in
politic, fighting over what's real.

Have you seen me?
Apparently, I'm gone with no reason.

I've been around.
Everything is strange lines coming
out of nowhere, taking root as patterns,
meaning what you make it.

Asphalt and all,
**** brains,
nowhere near, but covered
in politic, fighting over what's real.
-- but I'm alive.

They can fight me.
-- but I'm alive.
All your brains can fight me,
fight their eyes.
They can fight me.
All they want to fight.
They can fight me.
-- but I'm alive.
                 I'm alive.
                       I'm alive.
                             I'm alive.

Fight me.
I'm smoking ****,
diving into dreams,
barely leaving my house.
Come on, *****, fight me.
If your heart does so explode,
when your eyes cast sight on what you know
is abominable, then come and arson these
paper walls with me inside.
Fight me. Take the life.

-- but I existed.
                 I existed.
                       I existed.
I take solace knowing that by living at all,
I've angered people.
That's, hilarious.
Kai Schultz Jan 8
A little girl
clutching a pillow close to her chest
favors both the little barbie dolls and the toy trucks
which confuses mommy
and disgusts the children around her.

In elementary school
a little girl wears pretty dresses some days
then boy clothes the next
after throwing a fit in the store
about not always wanting to wear dresses.

In middle school,
things in the world start to change.
Things happen that open up the little girl's eyes.
It still disgusts the children she's surrounded by
when she becomes he.

He goes through most of middle school
then finds this boy
he's straight.
and for once,
HE feels like SHE again.

High school starts,
She wants to be He still
She wants to be Him.
The world expands more
and in one brilliant moment
She becomes They.
And They becomes all three.
Figured I would kinda pulls together something about genderfluidity.
Sage Dec 2018
You scream THEM
You shout it from the rooftops
Bellowing until you throat cracks
But they hear SHE
'She' they say with sweet smiles
You continue your shouts
Begging them to understand
THEM you wail
Your voice breaks as you sink to the ground
They lay a comforting hand on your shoulder
Then whisper in your ear with breath like a poisonous flower
'She'
Jarvis Dec 2018
I am a boy,
but I wear a bow on my head.
It flows down my shoulders.
I pretend that it’s my hair.
Red hair that shimmers gold in the sunlight,
highlights for society to see,
see a woman trapped in a man’s body.
Or is it a man trapped in a woman’s body?
My body
is all that shows beauty,
but my face is too ****.
I wrap it in red ribbon,
a mummy cursed by
her own-
his own self image.
Image of red thread dripping down my wrists.
Wrists tied too tightly to a knife wrapped in red,
so I cut them.
Red hair all over the bathroom floor forming
roses next to my deathbed.
Hung above my bed,
the threads of red
hung tightly around my neck,
draped down from the bow I wear at
the top of my head.
David Abraham Dec 2018
Some kid I don't even know is my hero
because he called me "he" when he doesn't even know me
and everyone else scares me
because they're constantly mocking all us ******* trannies,
saying we shouldn't exist,
because we're liars and delusional.

I can't stand people who says they're like me
just because they don't conform,
because they're not.
Not conforming isn't the same
as letting everyone see you and call you "it" and "******" and saying they hate people like you,
and not being able to breathe because you've got too beaten up by yourself hiding something
and wanting to die but only not doing it because you can't stand for a single person to talk about it with "she" on their minds.

I used to say I hated dresses and pink and all that girly **** when I was young not because I always did but because I couldn't stand anyone calling me the girly girl,
and then I always played sports, I fought and wrestled and kicked off my shoes for soccer to show the guys I was tough,
I was one of them,
and when they said I was just like them
I skipped and cried at home from happiness.

I don't believe in any god, or heaven or ****,
but I pray with all my heart
that I could have been born as someone else.
Even though I hate to feel jealous, I usually do not,
I wish so desperately that I could be any number of guys I see.
2257 dec 14 2018

sorry that all i have posted for a while is about being trans but wow it ******* ***** :))))
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