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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
Dante Rocío Aug 2020
It is fascinatingly probable
God balanced, protected, recompensed
how I feel misplaced in the confinements
to the vessel, in a biological
femininity even more being said,
by shaping that body as a speech
in my structure and palette embedded
of nature’s casts, messages‘
endearing faced:

I am put in a sunflower’s shift
when bearing a heat with caramel toning,
in the skin,
swift golden towel ‘round the
form naked,
and all other petite
through that standing strong
like a sword’s leather hilt,
and eyes with hair of tenderly
made browns with lights and darks,
as freckles shining scattered,
with their origin from Gold arriving,
or at last the very nutrient
dark centre by seeds posed.

When sodden, it is a mangrove then,
the caramel whole now slick
yet strongly dense as its roots,
like when I get myself firmly stuck
on feet like double arrow
spread limbs
and like mahogany shade
stand reading images.

Or there’s at last and at wind
the cherry blossom:
my thoughts and sensing presence
are so beloving that they
emanate pink in passing,
just as it’s flowers with no fruit,
my top, a crown,
swaying branches,
irregular protruding.
I bloom so dearly with my shading,
I could almost kiss like leaves,
like they do with me.

Wish you could see me, this,
such loving dear sight to be.
Like slick, promising, calm own river.
Alas, an eerie beige coat that flutters
with child dreams
I realised the cherry blossom in valleys of wind, the sunflower in murderous morning scorchings,
and all in all that the body Allah put me in mostly and in the colours,
Is only a further proof of my appurtenance and greater link to the Nature and my Home.
Riley OHalloran Aug 2020
i want to be good enough
that other parents are impressed,
and i want to bring honor to you:
i want others to think highly of you.
i’m addicted to the feeling i get
when you say, “they were impressed by you.”
i want to be good enough
for you.
i know they use my faults to criticize you, so it is imperative that i have enough qualities to make this difficult.
Quill Apr 2020
Heres to the lovers
Heres to the ones who have never felt the same love mirrored back
Heres to the ones who love one another
Heres to the ones who have never seen themselves depicted in media
Heres to the ones who have seen themselves depicted in media, only to be killed off when the directors think that your story is over
Heres to the ones who love like no other
To the ones who love books on a rainy day, who love sipping coffee looking out a store window, who love staring up into the vast blue of an afternoon sky
Heres to the ones who love
Heres to the ones who try to love themselves
To the ones who try to love themselves because nobody will do it for them
To the ones who cradle their own face
To the ones who rub their thumb over their own cheek
Who toy with their own hair
Who hug themselves tight
Who hug pillows and blankets and walls
Who hug friends, family
Who will hug strangers
Heres to the lovers who will put the ******* spider back outside
Heres to the lovers
Shadow Dragon Jun 2018
You have the smell of feeling something,
but the touch of regret.

Warm hands,
but a cold heart

You're like yellow,
a representation of happiness and sickness.
Nilia Loh Mar 2018
Not everyone likes me and accepts me for the colour I am.
I may not be the colour you love, not the colour you need.
Sometimes I'm the forgotten colour, and that's alright.
Sometimes noticed by painters, but not wanted by them.
I may not be beautiful in your eyes, but I have a purpose for being a certain colour I am.
Is alright if some ended up changing their minds of having me in their pictures.
Is alright if I'm not liked or appreciated anymore.
Is alright if I'm forgotten and left aside.  
Cause someday, I know, I'm a colour needed to complete their pictures.
A colour loved, wanted and appreciated.
Kaith Karishma Dec 2017
I am a girl,
A top model girl.
The kind you should see in movies,
the kind that coax your smile with their hearts.
Strong hips guide my strut, swaying
[there is power here] into drifting eyes.
Large feet stamp my impression in the ground,
saying [I am here. Look at me.]
My hands were not built for the piano;
rather I was formed to hold the sun in my palms.
A nose too shapely to be a Greek statue stands proud,
a lodestone that breathes in [you are your own].
Eyes carved but not taught to sit still
turn me from a pretty picture to an adventure.
The hair on my body doesn’t grow over my scars
but they form their own art of doggedness.
And when I smile my knife of a smile
that can break or make with a single glance,
my skin shines bright in the sun
that I’ve caught in my grasp, and I am
so beautiful, I am everything I ever wanted to be:
my own hero, something every top model girl,
every girl in the world, should be.
ShowYouLove Sep 2017
Red is for the blood you shed for me and for your sacred heart
Brown is for the wood of the cross: the bridge from heaven to earth
Purple is for your kingship. In honor of your power and majesty
Gold for the richness of knowing you and a reminder of the value of our souls
Blue for sadness and the water that flowed from your side
White for the veil that was torn, for holiness and purity
Yellow is for the sun bursting forth on Easter morning
Green is for new life and for good pastures
Colm Feb 2017
I don't say this much, but that's stupid
To waste your life creating things for someone else
When really all that I create is to learn about myself
To understand the other half, of the other side, of the other me
And to create something so foolishly
And to think that it represents most perfectly
Whatever it is that I did see
That perhaps was stupid of me
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