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Anais Vionet Jul 13
In hot August I’ll make my departure,
the trembling freshman imposter,
to dance with unknown partners,
in our quests to join the rosters
of future scholars and doctors.

Like Columbus I’ll journey not knowing
exactly where I am going -
and like our brave-foolish captain I’m hoping
that the planned years of furious rowing,
will deliver me to where (I think) I am going.
just future freshman pre-orientation thoughts (as I begin packing)
Divya Kaushik May 2020
You love to get the words out of me
The words I wouldn’t use, they sound *****
You love the way I look at you
I look into your eyes, and something sets free
You love the way I listen to you
I remember everything, Mr. Perfect doesn’t
We both love crushing
I crush on you
And you crush me  

You call me your tomboy
And get so possessive
You say that you need me
And then act submissive
I adjust your dresses
Sometimes your shoe laces  
When you keep me waiting
I say you are allowed
Don’t call me bro
Babe, what is the ground  
We both love crushing
I crush on you
And you crush me  

You say you love me  
Every time you text
I say, “I love you”
You shoot hearts and rainbows back
You want to know about my crushes
If I ever loved a girl
You wink and dance with me
Say I’m the only one to make you twirl
We both love crushing
I crush on you
And you crush me  

You love when I play gentleman
Opening the door
Letting you lead
Walking you back
Paying you heed
You  gush about  my  skills
The  way  I  move the  swords
The  way  I  calculate
The  way  I  play  with words
Close  discussions  and debates
And  then  we discuss
How  Mr.  Perfect  and  you  are  hanging
We both love crushing
I crush  on  you
And  you  crush  me

We are best friends
And you want us to be, forever
You want to hang out
And go abroad together
I would stand by you
In all platonic capacities
Even when Mr. Perfect marries you
And claims you stupidly
We both love crushing
I crush on you
And you crush me
tmartin Dec 2019
history prefers legends to men
it prefers nobility to brutality
it prefers soaring speeches to quiet deeds
it remembers the battle and forgets the blood

whatever history remembers of me if it remembers anything at all. i shall always think of myself as a man well,
just a MAN
“Pillows & Records” Memories of an old friend
emma hunt david Jan 2019
I'm 12 and I've been reading for 352 days straight and I have no interest in the people around me and why should I?
I'm 14 in this one and my sheets have polka dots on them and my pillow is Avril Lavigne's face and I'm thinking about the girl at school with pink hair and slow penmanship.
When I'm 16 you are 15 and holding my hand and I'm asking about french homework and trying not to focus on the movement of your thumb around mine which is not friendship.
This time I'm 21 and your thick bones outline my thin and I like this small feeling.
I spent a lot of time growing up wondering about my ****** orientation and struggling to find a box I could fit and move and wiggle in at the same time as being terrified of other people and completely fascinated at the thought of not being.
Joseph Floreta Jul 2018
Never listen to people who have the habit of being Negative..
Only listen to words that can Empower you to become more successful.
Joy Jun 2018
And I know one day,
I'll look into her eyes and say,
"I love you"
With body language, with touch,
When the way she laughs becomes too much.

Fingertips like felt rolling over
Stitched feelings of brokenness,
Diamond eyes catch the unraveling
Of confusion into wholesomeness,

I'm mended, I'm alive, and goddamit
I'm swollen with #pride
June, 2018
When I finally welcome my gay *** into some worthy recognition. Too bad it took another boy's broken heart to get here.

Now that I know love is not boring, I want to fall in love.
Adrian Newman Oct 2017
I hate being maternal
I hate being fearful
I hate being traumatised
I hate being quiet.

I hate my attraction to men
Because it makes me fearful
That I’ll have kids
And they’ll be neglected, empty and loveless.

I hate being anxious
I hate losing control
I hate my upbringing.

If it weren’t for the confusion
And the belting and the yelling
I wouldn’t be scared.

I hate my attraction to men
Because it made me fearful
I was told that they’re rapists
And they’d take advantage of me.

I hate being weak
I hate being gendered
I hate looking and feeling small.

I wish I was only attracted to women
Because I’d be less fearful
I wouldn’t worry about having kids.

I hate feeling inadequate
I hate feeling like a machine
I hate feeling weak.

I wish conversion therapy worked
Because I hate being attracted
To any man who might hurt me
Or force me to have kids
Or force me to be his slave
Or refuse to accept who I am.

I hate being viewed as a woman
I hate when I try to express affection
Women laugh at it, and men take it the wrong way.

I hate being invalidated
As a non-binary person
Who doesn’t want to cause anyone pain.

I hate ****** attraction towards men
Because if it weren’t for self-control
I’d dig my own grave
And possibly that of unwarranted children.

I hate being an unhappy child
Because if I was raised lovingly
I wouldn’t be anxious
I wouldn’t be cursing my sexuality
For including men

Because I wouldn’t be scared
Of having kids
Cos I’d know I would raise them
The happy way I was raised.

If I was raised lovingly,
I know I’d raise kids that way too
And they wouldn’t suffer
They wouldn’t blame me
And the cycle of raising kids lovingly
Would be passed on throughout generations.

Tell me I’m exaggerating
But my dad swore
He wouldn’t raise me
The way his father raised him.

But I was terrorized
By his beltings
Just like the ones
His father gave him.

So I hope you understand
Why I hate part of my sexuality
And why for the good of others
I don’t want kids.

I want to stop this cycle
Of fear, pain and suffering
Even if it ends me.
Even if no-one remembers me.

It’s good for my conscience
To say this right here and now
I hate being scared
And I’d hate for anyone
To be afraid of me.


11th October 2017
This poem lays my heart openly bare, it's extremely personal so I hope you appreciate that as a reader.
The title is important- if it weren't for me experiencing ****** attraction to men to any degree, I wouldn't feel as if being sexually involved with any of them might spiral out of control so that I'd end up with kids, and those kids would eventually be abused by me, the same way I was abused by my father who swore he'd NEVER belt me like his father did, but got angry and belted me which betrayed my trust.
No one is perfect, and how anyone is raised WILL influence how they raise their children. My father was abused in anger, so he abused me when he was angry. And I know that'll be the case with any children in my care, hence why I wish I could stop the cycle entirely by only finding women and afab (assigned female at birth) people attractive, therefore not putting myself in a situation to get pregnant and have any kids.
So yeah, hope this backstory wasn't too tedious and that it helps you understand why I wrote this poem ^
Divya Kaushik Mar 2017
There's an unseen connection
You don't see but I feel
My retina has your reflection
It's a blind yet funny deal

I see you when no one's there
Even with people around
Without touch I get the flair
Chasing me as a hound

I won't ask for anything
But just to see your face
A smile from you is something
That serves more than an embrace

I am an ace with desires
With no urge to play rounds
No butterflies, there's fire
My true love, in you, I found.
Being an ace doesn't take much to love but it surely takes a lot to get it in return.
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