in love, yes
with people, no

more inclined, i think
to fall for experiences

and animals and trees
and the taste of coffee in the morning

and the feel of accomplishment
after a long night spent writing

in love, i am
with maybe some people

no one personal,
two idols at most

in love, yes
with people, no

more inclined, i think
to fall for the sunset

and a relieving gust of breeze
on a humid day

and the art hung
on the walls of rustic cafes

in love, yes
with no one in particular

in love with life
even on days spent wishing for its end

a toxic sort of love, perhaps
perfectly suited for the likes of me

chemically imbalanced,
in brain and body

As their practised shouts and screams can be heard
Her hair tickles my cheek, a laugh so bright
That even from across our boundless earth
Their screams melt away in place of her light

We seal our sweet love with one precious kiss  
But yet their hands will turn to fists of fear  
I try to ignore them through all this bliss
Her soft and whispered words all I can hear

Religion and prejudice tells us no  
Their fists of fear now turned to fists of red
They spit and sneer at us that we must go  
Their words banging their way into my head

To their forced love with him I say, no Sir  
Because, you see, my love belongs to her

I don’t want to make a big ordeal,
but the way you see me is not ideal.

The world expects me to conceal,
but wouldn’t that be unreal.

Now that I’m saying this it feels surreal,
like someone grabbed my steering wheel.

My body feels like oatmeal,
and I’m trying not to kneel.

You turned this into a newsreel,
I wish I could repeal.

I tried to be stainless steel,
but you’re a spiked heel.

whether it be your
local shop
or the park across the road,
a nightclub
or a library, or
the school where
your children go

we're here

the bathroom,
the classroom,
the living room and kitchen,
marching downtown
with a rainbow parade
or hidden
in the closet

we're here

we've been here
forever
did you know that
ancient Greece
was a homonormative society?
we've been alive,
just trying to live our lives

we're here

no less human,
no less susceptible
to hurt or pain
or love;
we love in bright, bright colours
and we love freely
never bound by binaries or convention

we're here

you'll never be rid of us
as we are not
a disease
to be cured.
all we want to do
is be as free to love
as you.

we're here

we aren't going anywhere

See ma name is Lil t, born female but got pronouns with they and he

Ma big brotha calls me a lil' ******, ma otha brotha calls himself Born2Play with one digit

Nobody talk **** with this 5 foot 4, you mess with me and you out dat door!

I'm a Virgo born in a foreign country, at the age of three flew over the sea

Ma blood is made up of Blue, Yellow and Red. Romanian is one of the 5 Latin languages if y'all dumb squats read

A child of God is what they call me,
I **** skittles when I reach the MTL metro Beaudry

I ain't like those otha chicks,
When I was 17 I realized I didn't like ****

Put two and two togetha,
Adopted rainbow sheep of ma family, had a dream about this ******* named Gabby

Ima end this rap short and sweet,
I stand proud and tall for Comaneci the great 10 on 10 gymnast athlete

I've been very vulnerable lately. I am vulnerable, and I'm not sure how to exist within it.

Well, see, society (what is it? It lives and breathes but is often undetected- like a cyborg) tells us that vulnerability = femininity, in order for both to mutually invalidate the other- because in a patriarchal society that feeds on myth, there is no room for either of them, as they provoke questions. But once you're out of the spectrum,  things begin to change.

I'm beginning to view patriarchal systems of oppression as post-apocalyptic worlds - something which, through my interest in science fiction, is important and familiar to me. It makes this life seem equal parts more bearable and more gruesome, because, on one hand, nothing seems real, but on the other, everything appears to be hyper-realistic and predictive of some sort of massive disaster. Oftentimes I'm not sure which to side with.

I'm also keeping a journal of things that I do to make myself feel better & gendering them as society would just to see what I'm like inside. It's interesting to see that I'm a mixture of gendered behaviors, but that pain itself is not gendered.

My trans friend says that's contradictory. He believes that society exists purely without gender, intrinsically, and that since we create gender for ourselves as a means of oppression, I shouldn't be trying to figure out how I relate within that system, but rather attempting to break out of it.

But, hey- better the devil you know than the devil you don't, right?

You don't see me.
You never see.
I do.
My eyes roam your curves,
fingers reaching,
never quite touching.
I wax poetic about your lips,
your tongue as it sweeps pink skin.
You see me then.
You know, and you tease,
rough leather around my throat.
You purr in my ear, and it echoes.
I still think about you,
constantly.
I miss you,
ache for you.
My eyes seek you out from miles away.
But do you remember me?
Do you see me?
Because I seek you out.
Because I see you.

Her eyes-chocolate I could melt in,
sparkling for me.
Her smile-the perfect curve upward,
touching freckled cheeks.
Her hair- sweeping, spiraling down,
cascading onto bare shoulders.
Her laugh-chiming notes,
echoing through quiet night to reach my ears.
Her love-arms embracing me,
soft touches filled with promise.
Her-a beauty so rare,
my breath catches in my throat when I see
her.

Suitcases aren't made for dresses and skirts or any such thing,
They are another type of box they try to trap you within.