What I thought would be easy
Turned out to be a trial. I lay curled up feeling queasy. Frustration, anger. A strong stance. Is it denial in their faces? Am I to give another chance? But as I gaze into your eyes Those soft, warm orbs bring light, A fresh breath. I realise. I shall conform no more That young girl is gone, This will not be like before. Dead is the binary The girl in the mirror, gone. Now I see myself. Finally. Societal chains bear me down Some days I give in. Allow myself to drown In your norms Your dead ways. This strange form Will never fit in, I quickly realise No matter the colour of skin. Yet I gaze in the mirror, I see myself, finally. The world looks clearer.
Pt 2 of Your Binary
******* and your binary
It's always been there But never fit me. I was made to confirm Yet it was never taught. Through bruises, cuts and tears Layers upon layers of guilt. Endless starry nights. In candlelight and incense, Discovery was made. It was built this way. Tears streaming down our eyes, You still question our surprise. ******* and your binary To be queer is to be beautiful. You may choose to look away. They, he, she, ve. Me. ******* and your binary.
There was no rhythm to this as I was writing it, but it is so satisfying to read aloud. Pt 1 of 2.
I know my face is feminine
I know everyone 'knows' I'm a girl I know in this confusing christian society You have to keep to the binary And so I don't expect them To look at me And say "He" But just once Maybe they'll hesitate Before saying "She"
That could be enough
I wrote a poem into the wind
Improvisational melody And promptly forgot it I think the wind kept it
um you might have noticed I changed my gender. This is a kinda new thing, and I can't promise it'll never change again. (but then, changing is kinda the point, genderFluid) but yeah. :)
Bedroom’s painted fisherman’s blue
There’s a cut out of Hayden Panettiere naked in a pink bikini with a hula-hoop on the back of the door Copies of British Vogue desperately hidden underneath the bed accompanying an empty bottle of Glen’s Manchester United duvet cover and matching pillows to boot The bin’s filled with pre-packed home-made lunches from the last six months Wardrobes a collection of ill fitting blue jeans bought for me by grandmother and football jerseys for teams that I’ve never even heard of, yet let alone see play a single game Uniform ironed and sitting out ready for school on Monday at 8am sharp ***** clothes cover mostly all the floor smelling of Lynx’s finest even though there’s an empty laundry basket just waiting in the corner to be used Inside one of the woolen blazer’s (that is way too big for me) pockets a single unopened ****** and an AES 256-bit encrypted USB stick An old PlayStation 2, with a single controller; games including FIFA years through 2004 to now, Tom Clancy’s Splinter Cell, and GTA. Blood red shoplifted lipstick that’s now melted hidden in the little secret compartment at the back, meant for network expansion. Artemis Fowl, Alex Rider, and Harry Potter all adorn the bookcase Physics, Maths, and IT textbooks remain firmly closed on the desk in addition to a smashed phone from me and Daddy’s last “physical altercation” Lady Gaga’s “I Like it Rough” is playing in the background on repeat…
My gender can change at the flip of a switch
They say it's impossible They say it's just a glitch They ask if I'm male, female or non-binary I'm all three I'll tell them finally that's when They start to frown and look at me like I'm a clown "you can't have all three you must choose one!" "the science doesn't support it, ***." how do you explain it then when my gender decides to flip again when I go from someone who loves herself to someone who can't look at himself when I can't stand to be either gender I refuse to stand by and be a pretender Is it too much to ask for you to respect me? To let me be myself, to let me be free? To ask me what my pronouns are when you see me at a bar? my gender is mine you will not correct it you will not make me feel like a misfit because I know who I am, what I am there is no right answer to this exam my gender is fluid don't act like you're clueless because I don't fit in a neat little box I don't care if you think its a paradox because you don't get a say in who I am today I'm not nonbinary I'm not trans I'm fluid
***** and Quims should be worshiped.
For whichever you have, dictates how the rest of your life shall be. To those who biologically have both, how like gods you seem to me. To those who spiritually have both, what cursed and barren, in-between lands stock we.
Heels, leggings Feminine Too-big pants, no makeup Oversized shirt, men's shoes Masculine Regular jeans, little makeup Sweater, tennis shoes No gender Fancy shirt, tie Skirt, heels All gender All these But I'm Still me And that's okay
Especially when nobody respects you for who you are.
Dresses galore Both of them Fit to one gender Sports jerseys Baggy shorts I want those but I'm a "girl" Perky dresses Lots of makeup I'm told I must Because I'm a "girl" Anxiety fills me up I need to be perfect I need to be a daughter I need to be a girlfriend a wife a mother Why can't I be a child? A lover? A ren? A human? Why do you have to choose for me?
I'm not a girl, nor a boy, but a human who wants to be respected for being myself.