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Emry Oct 2020
Should I be more masc. or not at all?
Am I too short, or just too tall?
Why must I be cursed to cry,
Need an "X", but got a "Y"
Be forced to flee when none pursue,
Who'd ask that of you?
Lucas Ennis Feb 2019
We transgenders are not *****,
nor *******.
We transgenders are not tools,
nor autistic or *******.
It is not funny to spit at us.
Or stick notes on our back.
It is not funny to misgender us,
or harass and assault.
It is like we are a fish out of water.
Watching everyone swim.
As we suffocate and die.
See, we transgenders are just like you.
And you see,
We all speak it.
The truth.
Just a lil poem~
aaron Jan 2019
we have the meetings
we fill out the papers
we go through the process
we are told
"our systems take time to update"
and
"it'll be a few weeks"

we wait

and wait

they promise:
change
accommodation
support

and wait

and wait

and yet what we receive is:
deadnames
misgendering
backwards progress
no education
fear
harassment
dehumanization

i have now waited an entire year.

several meetings with the school's social worker
two meetings with the vice principal
this will most likely not be the last but
today shall be the first meeting with the principal

their system says we don't exist
we scream back
WE DO EXIST

this war is long from over
this i know for sure
but this here
is the start
of a
revolution
i'm meeting with my principal today to discuss issues among transgender students. enough is enough.
Adrian Sep 2018
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
.madame's stifled feverish
tittering,
voice raucous as tamped in a
corselet,
translucent skin akin to pellucid
drapery,
overwrought hands entwined in champagne
hair,
madame's eccentricity is her
lunacy.
  ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
  ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
.the mellifluous static of the ebony
radio,
            dulcet hallucinations imbricate in her
Crumpet,
ephemeral visionary of the
erstwhile,
Madame’s a suitable fandangle tenant of the
bedlam.
    ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
    ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
.madame scrutinized the greenwood through the
crevice,
appetency for the veil of sea
smoke,
   imperceptive to her
frenzy.
    ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
    ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
  .ensnared in an austere
plight,
madame’s urbane actuality,
disenfranchised.
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
.the exuberant dimension of reciting
hysteria.
    ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
Adrian Sep 2018
Stitched into this sac of skin at birth.
That fused to your bones
Fabricating a narcotic seamless facade

We pluck at the seams, with crude claws.
Laboring to unravel the lace seams
In vain

Whirling, flickering, suffocating nausea aimed at
Misuse of our pronouns of
Our echoing repulsive abnormal figure.

Funding a doctor to shed our skin.
Mutilating skin and bone to perfection.
For self-acceptance.
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