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boys look like boys
girls look like girls
boys look like girls
girls look like boys

people look like people

and that is all that I see

every single beautiful soul
worth living

especially the bus driver
who just flicked me off

she’s more deserving
than most.
Jen P Sep 10
Open your legs.
Let them reach into
Your womb.

You are their mother earth
The abundant bounty

Let them pick
And pluck
And stare

Let their hands
And sculpt
And ware

Let them create their own space
Inside of you

Find a brighter side
To this.
Close your eyes.
Jen P Sep 10
You are your own myth
feeding on your own flesh.
Some kind of creature
from Nightmare.

At times I'm not sure whether I should call you God,
Or by your own name-
When you pick it up
Or throw it away as the whim strikes you.

You have no image
There are no words
For your world.
Can't you feel it?

I sit back and feel the wind blow
Against the sweat on my brow
And know to myself
It is the only thing.
cleo Apr 17
the day i was cast out into the world
through spread legs
they looked between mine
and declared, simply:
“it’s a girl”

we’re taught to be ashamed
of who we are
that people like me, like us,
are freaks of nature

told me the body i was given
this body, is sacred
that i should never tamper with it
that it’s blasphemous to trespass
on divine territory

(who knew i could be a trespasser in my own home?)

you point to the sky
tell me
god doesn’t make mistakes
turn that finger back on me, on us
spew ridicule for the ones we’re supposedly making
for merely having the courage to be

what is it that makes doctors and parents alike
so reluctant to believe that
there are other colors out there
besides pink and blue

the lines are blurring ––
fuck robin thicke
this is not a phase
this choice was not mine to make
(unlike the one you made for me)
don’t tell me who or what i am

i didn’t climb out of one box
just to be shoved into another
How do you expect her,
Not to get wet
While standing in rain
Not to burn
When walking in flame
Not to feel pain
When getting hurt everyday
Not to break
When regularly being corroded
Not to react
While facing maltreatment
Not to rebel
After suffering years in hell

How do you expect her
To apologize
When you have made the mistake
To forgive
When your acts were full of abuses
To be healed
When scars stretch from head to heel
To recover
From the heartaches daily delivered
To be normal
After witnessing acts  of evil
To be well
While being with a person like devil
Eleanor Sep 5
The name rarely suits you
The voice merely chooses you
The body continues to move you
The choices begin to confuse you
The spectrum starts to lose you
Your gender seems to remove you

And who am I to love you?
Gender binary who would have thought? male? female? ??
Sara Kellie Jul 3
Look what they've done,
torn you apart.
In the name of fun,
some kind of black art.

I'd been thrown into the lake,
arms and legs tied.
I sunk to the bottom,
they thought I had died.
Out of the depths I arose
wearing a beautiful dress.

Some kind of new magic,
like a good witch.
A white art.
I don't seek revenge
for I have a pure heart.

It's now they'll see
that they could never be
someone like me.
Because I'm the greatest
mother fucker in a dress
they'll ever meet.

Poetry by Kaydee.
They struck me down and I'm now more powerful than they could have ever imagined.
Showing them love and equality kills them more than they could have ever killed me.
Syv Elena Aug 30
I've never worn dresses
until I was 21
It counts as one of my successes
That now I own a ton

Back in elementary
I only had one friend
I remember on thing he said to me

"If you were a girly girl this wouldnt have happened"

All this time
I always felt like a boy
All this time
I was one of the "bros"

I've never worn makeup
until I was 23
But honestly I just never brought up
That I thought I was too ugly

I always thought I couldnt be a girl
Because I didnt have the body
I always thought I couldnt be a girl
Because I had no femininity

I always felt lost
Because I was always in between
But then the fog cleared up
When I found out about gender fluidity

It was the answer to my troubles
I never thought the moment came
I could finally put away my struggles
I could finally give it a name

Now everyday I wear a dress
I use makeup in excess
I finally have my feminine side
Which I had lost for a long time

I started to own myself
I started to let people know
That you can always find yourself
And learn as you grow
Lyn Defelice Aug 21
His brittle whispers swirl about, streak the night, and pierce his doubt.
Wounds of applying silence him, acts of society complying him.
He is worthy. Or is he not?
He ponders on that quite a lot.
Collared shirts and clotting words, deciding color and colliding worlds.
Copycat, you're my paradox.
Parallel streams wash onto a scene of your discomfort;
counting your days to the last decimal. You protect her words
to the final syllable.
Did you fill her bones with residue of his speech?
Or clean his heart from a separate creek?
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
Blue Orchid Aug 20
Time is a mysterious thing. One we think too little or too much about as if it was either an extraneous concept or a recognizable one but never simply an acquaintance. We fear to gaze in to its dark eyes for fear of what we’ll see in its untamed structure. Perhaps we fear the absolute freedoms of it in how all its courses are never underlined by incongruous moments such as once that hunt our very existence. Or maybe we’re jealous of how youthful it stays while we slowly deteriorate to our graves as it watches with indifference.

I wish to give time a gender so it fulfils all my assumptions of it. Perhaps it’s a women, gentle and eloquent; with a heart that grounds the most feral of things. Her touch is knowledge and wisdom but also all things unknown. She is sculpted like the goddess praised while her love burns oceans from existence yet she watches alone from a distance quite unreachable. Lonely everlasting. Nonetheless her soul is cruel and unforgiving; her betrayal unexpected. Her expectations to high that even the most eligible of men would not dare attempt such a futile conquest for to even try would be to fail. However her compulsion is too powerful to disregard so no man sits ideal.

Perhaps it’s a man with a will that is ironclad. His grips too powerful for even the greatest of empires to resist so all chose to bend for fear of breaking. He rules like he makes love, with intensity that shatters all the women underneath him but they still come back for more for his touch, his magic stroke. Non who have been touched by him have ever resisted or those who have were swallowed by the tide that was his fury. Yet his heart is gold and he cares more than he expects as his gifts last eternity and from the sweetness of it,  just a moment.
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