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atlas Aug 2022
in the dark of night,
i lay down beside you.
outside, the lights cast an intricate show of shadows and silhouettes
oh, to witness such stillness in your company!
but I feel a storm deep within,
something brews and crackles inside my chest, could it be... love?
LostinJapan Jun 2022
Thanks, you said
For being an ally
You meant well
But I felt invisible

My marriage status
Plain, vanilla clothes
And natural appearance
Fueled your assumptions

This Pride month
Must I don rainbows
Or shave my head
To gain acceptance?

When will diversity
Be so universal
That I can truly be myself
Without being mislabeled?
birdy May 2022
I'm crying for a girl who never existed.
One who failed but always persisted,
to try and figure out
what makes one woman.
these thoughts about gender felt like a shout,
but this 'girl' was still figuring it out.
Now this person mourns the loss,
of this gender that felt like an albatross.
Willow SR Mar 2022
i am not a vibrant ocean blue
nor as pink as the sunset sky

i am not the daughter you watched grow
nor will i ever be a guy

i am not anything you said I'd be
instead, I am simply me
Willow SR Feb 2022
i've lived so long
being told that i was pink
but i've come to realize
i've never seen that colour
within myself
Willow SR Feb 2022
Will I always be the sidenote
In someone else's story
The enby kid pushed to the edges
Away from the glory

Will I always be a supporting role
In every tale that's told
Or will I ever get to be the one
With greater representation shown
Willow SR Dec 2021
I'm not quite lying when I say who I am
I'm skirting around the truth
And dropping hints within the sand

I'm not quite sure I have ever met myself
For with each passing moment
It seems I have become someone else

I'm not quite sure I can call myself a girl
For there's a rock within my stomach
That sometimes surfaces with the word
E Oct 2021
It’s a little weird, knowing what you can be.

When I was young, I didn’t really question some things. They were what they were.

There was no, “what am I?”
That wasn’t a thing because I never realized that you could be something else.

People called me a girl because I looked like one.
People called me a girl because I was one.
People called me a girl, and it never felt out of place.

And that was that.

Ignorance is bliss, in that regard.
You don’t know something feels off when you don’t know it /can/ be off.

Sometimes, I think it would be better to be blind than to spend a lifetime seeing the dents in the wall, wondering if they were always there, or if you made them yourself.
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