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deuynn Sep 1
a stray light
splayed across oak hardwood floor
a girl
who they are

a girl with a
unique identity
they struggle over finding
out who they are

while they are
accepted for
who they are
they are forgotten

their preferences thrown
out the window in
favor of sticking to
the status quo
Inspired by my interpretation of life with a different gender identity than what would be widely known through out the queer community. I identify as a girl but don't feel comfortable with the pronouns associated with the gender.
poesuer Apr 30
to live with a female body;
it would have been fine!
if only that body
happened to be mine
Azurel Mar 7
Dysphoria, what does it feel like?
They sigh, trying to find a single sentence for years of caged silence.

Identity: Female
Stuck in the wrong way
To me it’s a sense of nothing will ever be right
The feeling of being in extreme danger
Like you’re about to die

Identity: Male
All I can say is
This isn’t me
The feeling is a long and windy explanation of
There are things about me that I don’t associate with myself
And it’s weird and confusing
When I become aware of them

Identity: ****. A drag queen? Trans fluid.
It's a lot like,
An itch
Like a really itchy sweater,
You can’t take it off
And the longer you have to wear it the worse it gets
You start to hate yourself because
You’re the one that put the sweater on in the first place

They say we are ill

It’s not correct

When they say it’s their right to say those
That’s when I get mad

If there is no way to make the mind conform to the body
You must make the body conform to the mind

If they think it’s their right to tell other people that their identity is wrong,
Then they are ill and broken
They have no f**king clue
And I know,
I can’t tell them they’re wrong
Without telling them why
But I realize
Explaining this is futile
With closed minded people

Bathrooms need to change, Health care needs to change, Identification needs to change
People are forced to “pick one”
Trans-phobia shouldn’t be tolerated
Mental health care shouldn’t be because it’s a “defect”
Social pressure, Internalized oppression, Abuse,
Politicians have got it the wrong way around
One in two transgender persons have experienced ****** assault
One. In. Two.
They say, “We don’t want men undercover spying on our women and children”
You think they are in there to spy or ****?
Name more than two cases in the last 25 years
Where a transgender person has sexually abused a woman in the ladies bathroom
You can’t
But give me five minutes, and I can come up with five to eight names of transgender people
That have been assaulted in bathrooms since 2019 started

But our Pride cannot be destroyed
It’s our strength
A feeling of belonging
A belief that we can change this

We are not alone.

We Are Not Alone.

This is a poem written from the words of transgender people in my school. It is written for all who don’t understand who we are and all who wish to be understood. Please listen.
Sidney Chelle Nov 2018
it was never the big boy parts i wanted.
it was their soft details.
i wanted my arms to be more fuzzy, with wisps gleaming golden and straw in sun.
i wanted my shoulders to be broad, unbroken, and busy. i wanted to carry weight and spin girls dizzy.
i wanted a back, straight, always pointing north. i wanted angles and shores, i wanted fuzz and more.
i toothbrushed my face every night, suds glistening, mind listening, waiting for days where i had something to clean,
when it would feel just right.
i told myself i wouldn't let it be me, i pressed into seams and skirt's flow and i acted like i didn't know how it hurt.
i wanted dropped sounds and fewer mounds, i wanted free of feminine ecstasy. i wanted golf rounds and the sounds of a daughter looking at me
and saying daddy.
i pushed my fears into my pants, i held onto cramps and crowns, focusing so that i could be less man and less frowns. i packed and bound and wondered if i was right.
if i really was Eli at night.
so i'm sailing these seas of hormones and bliss, i'm sealing my soul with every kiss, and i'm looking at our horizons.
and i'm wondering if there is a me out there.
Grey Oct 2018
If you count the cracks
I will open my mouth for you
The injury
The injury,
falsely gaping
it doesn't fit and you count again
Look at my fingers
Stroke the edges
Feel the curves
How wrong can it be?
You press a hand to what's wrong
You hold my problems
Apples and Oranges
What if neither was real?
The inside is flesh
It yields
It yields
But if I do not ask you to count
my mouth will never have a use
Swallow my tongue for me
You put me in a place, but it isn't mine
Whose body is this?
Harri Jul 2018
I am a woman.
Or so I'm told.
But how can I be a woman,
When the me in the mirror
Doesn't match the me in my head,
Because I just can't comprehend
Seeing ****?
When I want to peel my skin off
Because it itches at the seams,
Of the stitched in expectations
Of my ***?
When the people all around me
Laugh and say “it's natural”
When I dare to express my discomfort,
And it seems I'm the only one
Who struggles with the day to day
Of existing as a “miss”,
And my name doesn't fit unless it's shortened?
So I strap down my chest
So you can't see it.
But still my face screams woman,
And my voice
And my hips
And that ever ******,
Mother ******* “MISS”.
I know my **** are still there,
Their discomfort physical now,
Not just a mental ache.
And every month I bleed,
And it's like my body's betraying me.
But the whole world says that's just the way it is.

I'm tired of the way it is.
I'm tired of your boxes.
I climb out of one
To be kicked into another,
Not a woman, fine.
So I must want to be a man?
I must want to join the ranks
Of the people that have disgusted me,
Debased me
And repulsed me?
Of the people making sport
Of the gender I have lived with?
I won't live with a gender,
With your ******* expectations,
Or your games
Or your stupid little boxes.
Or blue?
I LIKE ******* BOTH.
I want hairy legs,
But not a hairy chest.
I don't want ****,
But I don't want a ***** either.
I want long hair,
Without assumptions I'm a girl.

I want to exist outside society.
It's broken.
Haylin May 2018
I'm a girl
But somedays
I'm a boy
ConnectHook Apr 2018
Why the hell would you want to change
if God thus made you (like Genesis)?
A notion so bizarre, so strange,
it begs some armchair analysis.
Such madness, yours. To rearrange . . .
thus we all learn what hubris is.
But on you babble, obscuring gender
(quite the conversation-ender).
Father means a man
and Mother means a woman
(there’s no other plan)
Em or Finn Mar 2018
I feel trapped
Like I can't reach
The peak of who I am
Of who I'm meant to be

Everything becomes an obstacle
My hair
My voice
How I dress

They stop me
Stop me from being perceived
As the gender I feel
The gender I am

If gender dysphoria was a weapon
I would've been shot down long ago
With my brothers, sisters, and siblings
Who died from the never-ending torture

All I want is my name
All I want is for others to use my pronouns
But that's too far away
So I'm waiting for the torture to finally

End me
Dani Dec 2017
Not quite white
Not quite latino
Not quite anything

Too dark to be white
Too light to be latino
Too mixed to be anything

Not quite that language
Not quite that accent
Not quite anything

Too feminine for this
Too masculine for that
Too mixed to be anything

Not quite this thing
Not quite that thing
Not quite anything
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