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Joyce Jul 27
ii
it rained today
and i saw
hundreds of rainbows
reflected on the streets
as it is in the sky
LGBT pride parade on my way home
Sam Jun 16
She could feel a grin grace her face,
smudging the painted flags that stained her dark cheeks

She laughed

Loud

Free

Proud

Happy

As she gazed out at the people surrounding her
She couldn't help but think

This is the one night
The one night they could be themselves

The one night where they could hear the right name instead of the wrong pronouns.

Where they could hear loud and loving compliments rather than mumbled and acidic insults

Where they could dress and act how they wanted without the fear of rejection waiting right outside their bedroom door

The one night

Where they could see themselves in the mirror

And be PROUD of the person who smiles back
Happy ******* Pride *******!!!!
Kaiden A Ward Jun 13
Cramped and small, there is no air
here in the dark.
We cannot breathe, but we will not leave.
We choke on our dreams in their decay,
desperately trying to make a home
of this coffin,
adorning these walls with rainbows turned gray
which we cannot see anyway.

We're suffocating in this silence,
drilling tiny holes in the walls
of our closet prison cell,
searching for oxygen
so we might make it just
a little bit longer.

But we've become addicted to the light they let in,
craving more and more as we long to be free,
staring at our homemade stars until,
it isn't enough anymore,
and we must decide for ourselves,
if it's worth it, to come out,
to break down the unlocked door
and reveal our hidden colors with pride,
knowing you'll knock the first real breath
from our throats.

And though, finally, we are able to breathe,
the decay still lingers in our lungs
from trying so desperately to
make a home of the coffin
you tried to bury us in.
But not all of us survive.

Fearing you will tear us asunder
if we dare step into the light,
we're seeking peace six feet under
because suicide seems easier than
being forced to choose between
living behind a facade of lies
and inviting the danger
of our honesty,
painting targets on our chests,
for this is the price of our identity
in this society.

We are not the abominations you think we are.
We are human too and
have just as much of a right
to be free, as you do.
So, together, we're learning how to thrive, but,
not all of us know
how to make it out alive.
Kaiden A Ward Jun 11
There is a disconnect between my body and my mind.
At least, that's what I tell people.
Because I find it easier to admit
that I am broken
than to open myself to their ridicule
as I try to explain asexuality
one more time.

It's hard, to describe an absence
of something you've never felt
to those for whom it defines their existence.
I don't understand their resistence,
logic dictates that just because one thing is true,
that doesn't eliminate the validity
of it's reflection.
It has become this society's obession
to portray us only as a lie, a
sickness you are lucky not to be infected with.

Though I am still struggling to find my voice
and understand my own mind,
I am sure of one thing:
I am not BrOkEn.
And if you are like me, please,
don't let your pride be stolen,
because neither are you...
There is nothing wrong with being Asexual. You are beautiful and worthy of love and place in this world.
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.
Growing up in a culture where
you are not supposed to exist,
you become accustomed to the generosity
of people trying
to fix you, to
force you into a shape
they can understand.

I did not know how exhausting it was,
trying to remain elastic
in a world that demands us to be static,
trapping us in binary boxes where
we wilt in our confinement but,
against societal expectations,
we refuse to suffocate ourselves
for your comfort.

Together, we will stand in the light,
heads held high with unmatched pride
for we have fought too long and
too hard for our right
to be here
to live silently with
our heads bowed low
any longer.
My contribution to celebrate pride month this year.
Cc Jun 4
I don’t really know where I fit
In the grand scheme of things
Nothing seems to be ‘it’
I’m not lesbian or straight
But I love in between
I don’t think I see gender
It just depends on your reality
I want to hold a woman
But I love holding onto my man
I guess I’m just curious
To understand how it feels
To love a familiar figure in my arms
To explore what that means
Because love is love
I guess someday I’ll find where mine lies
In the six colours of the rainbow
I’m sure it resides.
I am thirteen
    when the mean girls call
me weird—
I do not shave
I do not wear makeup.
I do wear basketball shorts
and messy ponytails.
I am pressured to be her—
Aria.
I shave relentlessly
    for the next two years.

I am fifteen
    full of discomfort
    and anger
breaking my bones like they
    are glass
reckless rage—
all reckless no brave
    depraved of a home
    inside my own skin.

I am fifteen when I
learn what gender dysphoria is.

I am fifteen when I
    realize I am a boy
that I always have and will be
    a boy.

I am fifteen—
putting holes in wall and
    overdosing on advil
like it is a sport
championing my own self demise.

I am fifteen afraid and closeted—
I write my name as
ALEX
on my school assignments
I always change it back
before I turn them in.  

I am fifteen
    convinced everyone loves the girl
I am not
    and will never love me as the boy
I actually am.

I am sixteen crying on the floor
    of a psych ward
    this is my fifth hospitalization
in fourteen months.
Pretending to be her is
killing me.
I choke back tears as I tell
my mom that I am
transgender.
She tells me she loves me,
    and she saw me writing
    ALEX on my papers.

It will take five years
for her to let her daughter go.

I am seventeen when I am shoved
    to the floor in a men's bathroom
    slammed and slurred across the tile—
It will not be until six months into
    Hormone Replacement Therapy
that I use the men's public restroom.
I am eighteen when my moms boyfriend of the
time pulls me aside
and tells me I am making a mistake.
He would wear his mothers dresses and heels,
    hiding in her closet
    all of this is to say
    this is a phase.
When people say that this is a phase—
    I am sixteen
    sobbing on linoleum floors
    covered in cuts
    wanting nothing more than death
    if I have to pretend to be her
    for more than one second longer.

I am nineteen hopeful
    and naive.
Voice cracking and hair sprouting
    I am coming into my own body.
    I have learned that there
    are things much worse than needles.

I am twenty out of the
    ashes of abuse and trauma
    I am finally becoming
    the man I have always been
    meant to be.
lena k Jun 2018
your kisses, gentle or messy, have the ability
to make me happy for an entire week.
your touch, soft or grip, has the ability
to strip the breath from my body
distract me from life.
your smile has the ability
to free my thoughts of sadness.
your laugh has the ability
to force my mouth into a smile.
i wish i could lay with you
until my lungs lack oxygen
until my heart can no longer beat
until my lips can no longer meet yours
until my body can no longer wrap around yours
until you no longer long my love for you
i miss my girlfriend haha
Nyx Jun 2018
Hollow
The difference of being empty and void is the middle part
The void tells you there's nothing there
Empty means something is lacking
Something is not here
Hollowed-out means emptied out
Like a smile fading
Tears falling
Heart breaking

Full
Abundance is what it is
The many the merrier, the more the richer
Fill me with peals of laughters
Of handkerchiefs to wipe the oceans in my eyes
Make my heart full of you

Make me hollow. Then fill me in again.
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