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Abigail Aug 16
When you lean on providence as the arbiter of your fortunes, then your fortunes have been decided not by your qualities but by circumstance inherent to your birth.

To be so juvenile as to direct your appreciation for your fortunes externally, and particularly toward the divine, shows a lack of design. You receive of life rather than act as creator.

The ones who slave, the ones who doggedly toil. The ones who see through the grates in the gutter and claw our way to the streets to even begin to walk free of the stench and putrefaction you lay upon us in your most casual activities—we are a Godless lot.

We envy and despise your pursuits. And when we walk through your world, finally, it is frantic. It is frenetic. It is joyful and hateful and ripe with pain and passion and we lay our praise, our worship at our own feet. And we will hear your praise. Again and again.

To belong in your world is to burn inside. With love, with revulsion and with power. Beware when we walk among you, for we will see you bow, yes we shall. Beware of the day when we walk among you en masse. On that day, no God, no karma, no twisted fate will design your fortunes. It will be I and she and he and they, and we shall not be so kind.
aise Aug 3
tell me, in a gunfight, what is the probability of two bullets being fired at once? (2/6, i know, i calculated)

because i still capitalize the g in God, and i still pray every night for...

the chance that i'll stop loving you (the chance that one day you'll turn around and see me there, waiting for you)

and, in a gunfight, what is the probability of two bullets colliding (i already know- i just wanted to hear your voice)

my knees are sore, and this carpet is itchy but i still have 6 Hail Marys left and i still miss you more than anything

275,000,000- that's how many stars die in a day / that's also how many stars are born in a day isn't that cool? i looked it up just for you

i'm finished all my prayers, my knees are still sore, i climb into bed, my heart still aches, i turn off the lights.

n.o
this is for leo, my shining star
JJ Jun 29
He paced between two feet.
His eyes wide, unblinking.
He rubbed her legs and told her to stay safe.
He searched his pockets,
I don’t want to know what for.

I had been a cloud.
I had floated through the night sky.
He told me he’d come back.
I believed him.

I thought things were different,
and oftentimes they are.
But what is left there waiting for me,
when time can’t heal all wounds?

I long to feel safe in the streets.
So this is old, but I thought since it's Pride today it would be a nice time to post.
Luna Jul 11
I wish
I could just
kiss you
without
fearing
those who
watch
homophobia's a *****
Syd Hafner Jun 8
Pack your things,
grab my hand and run
And if all goes according to plan,
we should be in Chicago
before your Daddy can get his gun
Leave a note
on the bed for your Mom
Don’t let her worry, but let her know
that she did something wrong
If it’s what
Leviticus eighteen said
then let’s live together in sin
rei muto May 20
homophobia and tranasphobia.
why are they called
phobias
if they are not a fear?
This is a short poem.
Mal May 10
i cant explain that homophobia is ripping holes through my sweaters and clothes and i am shivering.

the whistling wind whispering in my ear keeps telling me that my love is not authentic.
no, my sexuality is not your aesthetic.

but the whispering starts roaring.
the swarming hatred speeches of rain starts pouring from clouds of ignorance.

venomous lightning that will soon strike down.
and when it does, the venom will soon take over my body.
and shatter my heart.

cause my umbrella cannot contain this bad weather.
vic Apr 23
I spring awake at four a.m.
Inscitvely clutching my phone to check on this kid’s petition
“End the G.S.A.”
The stress eats away at my sleep schedule
As kids use one misunderstanding to take away my heart and soul
A club I have inputted so much of myself into
And funny enough “Vic” has three letters too
I can’t sleep without their 300 signatures popping up behind my eyelids
Comments being recited in the most repressed part of my insecurities
300 people who are against one of the clubs that saved me
Saved my friends
Saved so many people
But there’s no room for a *** presence in Johnson County
I spring awake at four a.m.
Visions of the kid who keeps his gun in his car spring into my head
My chest feels open already
Have already bled out every ounce of pride in me
What more harm can this kid do?
Don’t they understand that by killing my spirit
They’ve already made storage container for their bullets?
I spring awake at four a.m.
Because I do not let myself feel any other time
Must stay strong to show that I am bigger than their hatred
That I will go on
So I refuse to let myself accept that ever-consuming fear that grows in my stomach
It’s just indigestion
Just me being another overdramatic queer kid
Just everyday life that I must adjust to anyways
I haven’t let myself feel since the incident occurred
And the reactions poured in
Drowning any sense of safety I used to feel
I am choking on their unadulterated bigotry
Gasping for air amongst the abundance of hatred
And I’m not sure if I’ll ever breathe right again
I spring awake at 4 a.m.
Because I guess it’s the only time I feel safe anymore.
School is a warzone for people like me
And I can't hide in the crowd so easily
When it's 1v300
So I'm desperately trying to hide behind my poetry
I spring awake at 4 a.m.
Because I don't know if my coping is working.
did not revise this at all, just a quick poem of my thoughts before i try to get back to sleep
Mikey Barnes Mar 29
pass it round the playground like your brother's ***** jokes
whisper it when i walk by like it's some filthy secret
corner me in the corridor and watch me stammer through an explanation
maybe if they'd taught you it we wouldn't need this conversation

hear it on the taunting lips of classmates
who then face no repercussions
smear it in your saviour's name in r.s. class discussions
tell me how it turns you on
tell me how it must be wrong
tell me how i don't belong
and the teachers will do nothing

scold it like a swear word when uttered in your classroom
blush when i bring it up as though no one's ever asked you
laugh it away with a wave of your hand
tell me i'm too young to understand

and you
queer kid with the lips zipped shut
search for it in tv shows and library books
search for it on youtube and on pornhub
hide it in your bedroom beneath the boyband posters
hide it in your hard drive in a discreetly misnamed folder
know you'll never mention it in your father's house
know you'll never hear it in your teachers' mouths

keep your head down in all those r.s. class discussions
flinch at the classmates
who then face no repercussions
and you know that it turns them on
and you know that it must be wrong
and you know that you don't belong
and the teachers still do nothing
a reflection on coming out very young and somewhat of a response to the current "debate" around lgbtq+ education in british schools. what the people fighting against equality forget is that there are lgbtq+ students in schools right now who could hugely benefit from the recognition of their existence by the education system
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