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Aaryn Jul 26
I’m scared to be hurt
And so I won’t give you a chance
To hurt me again
Even though it wasn’t your fault

The though
Of losing
Losing control
Losing a friend
Losing you
I can’t take it

So I will make sure
I am in control
Of the pain
I will slice my wrists
And count the calories
And maintain my
Over my life

I’m scared of

I’m scared of losing you
I’m sorry... I’m still ****** up
Dhriti Seth Jul 10
I hope you don’t judge me
By the pigment on my face
I hope you see more in me
Than the inches around my waist

I hope you stop believing
That age is a handicap
I hope you don’t seclude me
If we’re from different places on the map

I hope you don’t feel
As if I’m a threat to you
Just because my choice of partners
Is crucified by taboo

I am not the inferior gender
I demand equal place and pay
And when someone wrongs me
I hope Society doesn’t push me away

I hope you don’t shun me
Because my gender is undefined
I hope you don’t try your best
To crush me in the world’s grind

I hope you open your eyes and see
That our He was always the same
We need to stop all death and destruction
That happens in His name

I hope this system of division
Hasn’t stuck to your mind
And when it comes to basic rights
I hope I am not left behind
                                        - D.S.
Hey guys! I'm new here so would really love to make new poet-friends and be a part of the community. Please be sure to leave a comment. Rip the poem apart if you like, constructive criticism is my salvation and is always eagerly awaited. Thanks a lot. Hope you have a great day and a great week.
Until next time,
Dhriti Seth
Kaiden A Ward May 28
The deepest depths of our lungs
have been deprived of oxygen
for so long
that we cannot remember what is like
to breathe,
deeply and unhindered by
this binder
as the constriction threatens to
collapse the cavity of our chest.

Willingly, we trade our breath
for the exquisite, piercing pain
that we quickly come to associate with
peace of mind
and freedom
because it means the reflection of our silhouette
finally matches the physique our
dysphoria has been telling us
we should have had
our whole lives.

In time, this addiction festers and
we bind longer and more often as
our bodies grow weaker and
our minds more chaotic until,
despite the destruction,
we cannot bear to take them off
and face the truth
written in our curves.

The pain is at one with us now.
We endure, if only to be able to
run our hands longingly down
our flattened chests
as we wait, hoping that,
one day,
we will finally be able to learn
what it is like to
breathe again.
My first attempt to capture what it is like to bind and my personal experience and thoughts on binding. Everyone's story is different.
Kaiden A Ward Jun 13
Cramped and small, there is no air
here in the dark.
We cannot breathe, but we will not leave.
We choke on our dreams in their decay,
desperately trying to make a home
of this coffin,
adorning these walls with rainbows turned gray
which we cannot see anyway.

We're suffocating in this silence,
drilling tiny holes in the walls
of our closet prison cell,
searching for oxygen
so we might make it just
a little bit longer.

But we've become addicted to the light they let in,
craving more and more as we long to be free,
staring at our homemade stars until,
it isn't enough anymore,
and we must decide for ourselves,
if it's worth it, to come out,
to break down the unlocked door
and reveal our hidden colors with pride,
knowing you'll knock the first real breath
from our throats.

And though, finally, we are able to breathe,
the decay still lingers in our lungs
from trying so desperately to
make a home of the coffin
you tried to bury us in.
But not all of us survive.

Fearing you will tear us asunder
if we dare step into the light,
we're seeking peace six feet under
because suicide seems easier than
being forced to choose between
living behind a facade of lies
and inviting the danger
of our honesty,
painting targets on our chests,
for this is the price of our identity
in this society.

We are not the abominations you think we are.
We are human too and
have just as much of a right
to be free, as you do.
So, together, we're learning how to thrive, but,
not all of us know
how to make it out alive.
Growing up in a culture where
you are not supposed to exist,
you become accustomed to the generosity
of people trying
to fix you, to
force you into a shape
they can understand.

I did not know how exhausting it was,
trying to remain elastic
in a world that demands us to be static,
trapping us in binary boxes where
we wilt in our confinement but,
against societal expectations,
we refuse to suffocate ourselves
for your comfort.

Together, we will stand in the light,
heads held high with unmatched pride
for we have fought too long and
too hard for our right
to be here
to live silently with
our heads bowed low
any longer.
My contribution to celebrate pride month this year.
If you are a member of the LGBTQ+ community,
and you are still looking for home,
trust me, there are good people out there
who will accept you for who you are.
Sometimes, you just have to find them.
I promise you, we are out there and
we can't wait to meet you.
Kaiden A Ward Jun 11
There is a disconnect between my body and my mind.
At least, that's what I tell people.
Because I find it easier to admit
that I am broken
than to open myself to their ridicule
as I try to explain asexuality
one more time.

It's hard, to describe an absence
of something you've never felt
to those for whom it defines their existence.
I don't understand their resistence,
logic dictates that just because one thing is true,
that doesn't eliminate the validity
of it's reflection.
It has become this society's obession
to portray us only as a lie, a
sickness you are lucky not to be infected with.

Though I am still struggling to find my voice
and understand my own mind,
I am sure of one thing:
I am not BrOkEn.
And if you are like me, please,
don't let your pride be stolen,
because neither are you...
There is nothing wrong with being Asexual. You are beautiful and worthy of love and place in this world.
eliza vy May 23
step-mother cried today.
her dear baby’s gone away—
drove down that sticky-sweet and bubbling mess
by pretty men and their perfect dress,
with blinding smiles and a made-up face,
their whispered words all carefully placed
to drown him in that murky sea;
to push his head beneath the boiling depths
and silence all our final pleas.

and after all her pain and bleeding,
the birthing screams and angel's oath—
she could not **** either,
why should he get to love both?

step-father sighed today.
who led his child astray?
who filled his little head with sickly lies
of milky sweets and buzzing flies,
with selfish lusts and fleshly desires,
crawling skin and ashen-wax fires,
all leading him toward the flames,
him screaming out with teeth sunk in his shoulder,
lost in all the pleasured pains.

and when the moment has blown past us,
and the rains come flooding in—
he drowned the whole world once;
he surely could do it again.

step-brother died today.
all smelling of decay—
two thousand years of blood and pain and rot,
of pretty words and evil thoughts,
the tangling vines haloed all round his head,
the circling crows all gorging the bread
that's dripping down his broken spine
and spilling from that ruined brain,
his body stained with water, blood and wine.

and when the spike had pierced his body,
would his spirit be released?
the wounds healed three days later;
was it worth it in the least?

but my lover smiled today—
o holy family, everything will be okay.
indigochild Dec 2018
ignoring who i am is almost worst than hating who i am

i laid bare before you, heart slipped on the hardwood floor
you became blind

i screamed vows in your ear, words scattered on the couch
you became deaf

i beggingly shook your shoulders, history spilled on the bed
you became paralyzed

you prayed
i sinned

this was not a choice

please respond
just please

i’d rather have you hate me
indigochild Dec 2018
I loved you but not in the way where
Your body becomes an ocean under my palm
And your tongue becomes the treasure I have to find
And your hands become the gasp of air before I drown in your moans

I loved you but
Your body has no cave to dive into who’s walls are filled with the wetness of the ocean breeze from your breath on my neck
And your chest has no curves like crystals on the sea floor I swim to just to hold them
And you have no gills that protect the entrance in which you breathe life from
           No gills in which you must rub the right direction

I loved you but you are the man on Earth and I belong with the mermaids under the sea
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