I walk through the doors,
Present the child with a tiny badge,
Yellow, white, purple, black.
I watch the smile spread across their face,
As I call them
"Captain; dear; Mx. Eli; child"
Do not tell me that they are not real
Do not tell me that they are confused
You have never known the inner workings
Of the mind of a child,
You dictate their thoughts and dreams and imaginary friends and fathers.
They are not confused
They know their mind
And they know the world they will grow up in
Will be nothing but cruel to them -
Nothing but cruelty to the little lost boys and girls and neithers,
Because if you cannot experience it then it must not be true,
And you must make up lies you imagine your father must have said
From his passive, uncaring position in the clouds,
Watching drama unfold like a game of Sims.
Tell me I'm going to hell. I'll see you there.
And never talk to my sibling like that again.
What is it, how can we tell?
Are we forced into it, a cell?
A trapped enclosure, a set of ways
Dedicated to telling one how to be.
Not inherently bad,
When we talk about
Keep your codes for morals
Let me wear my skirt.
My dressed all lay dusty
Because I was afraid I would be
For I am truly,
Not akin to a single
Form of gender.
The one true way
That of self-realization
Comes from the acknowledgement
That I am me
Male, female, none, both.
I am Bede.
Let's make one thing clear
The future is not female
The future is
*** workers, it's
People of color it's
People with disabilities
THE FUTURE IS INTERSECTIONAL
this person i know
wants to be called they
it could bring us much closer
to see them that way
its a strange thing to think
and harder to say
but they is so happy
when the effort is made
to all the theys and thems
it is this i pray
we be kind and accepting
and just let them be they
this is not my poem i dont know whos it is i saw it on instagram
Despite their protests
And transphobic comments
We went on the date we had planned
Not caring about their demands
Sure, I was nervous as hell
And I could tell she was as well
And maybe we didn't talk much
But none of that mattered when I met her touch
Our hands interlocked in a silent agreement
That no matter what they said, we would ignore their treatment
There were so many things I wanted to do or say
But all that will come on another day.
When I first sat at that table
A sort of aura filled the air, it was unstable
Even though I knew they wouldn't change their ways
My eyes still met your beautiful gaze.
I saw what the world wanted me to be
I saw the projections and figures everywhere
I saw the expectations, the social constructs
the suggestions, the insistence
i stopped looking
I took away the mirror and let it fall to the floor
a million pieces
I invited my seven years of bad luck
so I could stop looking.
I looked within myself instead.
I stood on the edge of the mountain, where society wanted to push me over the edge
I stood on the edge of the ocean, where it wanted the waves to drown me
I clung to the earth, where it's winds and currents would rather have me swept away.
I stood there and I screamed.
I bellowed into the deepest valley, and across the sea
I wanted every ear to feel the sound
I howled until my lungs felt free
" E N O U G H "
rejecting the false image pushed upon me
I looked within myself and found the universe when the earth wanted to swallow me whole.
My reflection belongs to me,
this world cannot contain me
but it tried to own me
from imposed shackles.
i am one of my own
what has been decided for me
and yet what i cannot be
if only because i cannot be it right
becoming a scavenger,
i pick apart what remains
from the carcass of femininity
clawing and ripping and tearing
and taking from gender
whatever i desire
for what has gender done for me?
aside from putting on a collar
and controlling my every move
deciding what i do
and how and when and why i do it
stealing what i can
and turning it upside down
looking starlit and airy
while still solid with rage
and being oh so tender with her
and protective from the rest
raccoon eyes and evening gowns
leather boots and lace socks
i havent been on here for a while but im back to post more *** poetry because im a big **** and my dearest bought me minecraft
when i say
“i want you to come home”
i’m talking to the woman
i was always expected to be
i don’t miss her and
i don’t love her
but she would make it
a little less messy.
being nonbinary. i’m not the woman from the story that the womb told; i’m even bigger than that.
i look at the world
from eyes stuck in the in-between
and this is what i see:
what i was born as,
a hue assigned to me.
i look at the two colors
that this world sees -
and this is what i know:
i do not fit in those hues,
i am not pink or blue.
i look at my own body
and don’t connect with what i see.
but i see that my hands can make
the real and purple me.
because i do not fit on society’s tightrope,
i am the in-between.
(fun fact, this was for a school assignment)
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.