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even if your name
doesn't match the one on your drivers licence
or birth certificate:
be proud

even if your pronouns
aren't the ones they use at
family gatherings or birthday parties:
be proud

even if the one you love
isn't the one you're with:
be proud

even if who you are
isn't who you want to be
right now:
be proud

even if people
don't understand
and still use slurs:
be proud

even if you have to fight
to stay visible:
be proud

even if you're not okay:
be proud
happy pride. especially to those who don't have anyone to celebrate with. i'll celebrate with you. even if you don't think you have anything to be proud of, the people that stood at the stonewall riots think that you do. i think that you do. countless members of this community stand with you, and know that you should stand with PRIDE.

so be proud.

I dream of taking my shirt off
A fantasy of skin and scars
Of baring my chest to the sun
Of muscle and fat and hair
And all the grossest parts of the human form
I want them to be mine
For this body to be mine
I fantasize of stripping naked
In the privacy of my own room
To look in the mirror and see
A familiar face, a familiar body
Just to see, just to look
Delight unfurls in my heart
Just to know, now, that I belong to myself
That my own bared flesh no longer causes me pain
That my own bareness is no longer a shame
I deal with dysphoria by forcing a disconnect between my mind and my body. I feel like a stranger to myself. This face isn't mine.
Nae 6d
When you meet a person the first instinct is to know their name,
A proper noun to represent them as a whole,
A name can define you,
And make you a person, not just a being.
So when people ask my name, why is it that I am so pained to admit it?
The name I was given at birth,
my dear loving parent had picked out so carefully from all the rest,
why must it hurt so much to admit?
Why can't I appreciate my name?
Why don't It feel like it is my name?

My name is dysphoria, you answer to me, you're weak, I can tell, so cry on your knees

"Such a pretty name" they say,
"It suits you so well" they say,
But it makes me sick to my stomach,
I just want to hurl those letters into oblivion,
A garbled mess from which I can reform who I am.
Reform my name.
And my father wonders why I wear thick jumpers in the summer,
My mother looks concerned when she sees my lack of breath,
From the construction of the 4 sports bras on my chest.
And from her lips slips that horrid name.
And it's like I can breathe even less.

My name is dysphoria, you answer to me, you're weak, I can tell, so beg in your knees

My aunt wonders why I cut my pretty hair,
My grandad thinks it's weird that I won't wear a dress,
I don't get why "God" is angry when clearly it's just them,
I thought he taught us to love each other?
Does this rule not apply to me?
"A loving daughter" yeah right;
Just you wait and see.

My name is dysphoria, you answer to me, disgusting, revolting, now spout me your plea.

My sister tries to be supportive but I can tell she doesn't get it,
My mother doesn't mention it,
My father hardly looks at me.
But they don't understand the joy I felt,
When I took that first injection.
My hormones set on fire,
My blood set a light,
And for once in my life-
My body started to feel right.

My name is dysphoria, you should answer to me, disgusting, revolting, a girl in boys clothing.

And yeah, my family might not use my new name,
But it's on my driver's license,
My passport,
My soul,
And finally I was excited to introduce myself to people.
Finally I was happy to exist,
I was happy to be me-
A boy at last.
With a real name: Rory.
Ashtyn Lucas May 22
In a time I can't remember
There was nothing but dark

Then you arrived
A sun to light up my world
Water to keep me alive

You were sweet like honey
With the right amount of sour
To keep things interesting

I made a mistake

I told you who I am

You may be supportive, sure
But you'd never change
For someone, you claimed to love

I was tossed aside
While you ventured out
For you next conquest

How could you
Someone as broken as me
Break me even more?
Don't come out of the closet to everyone :)
thispanman Apr 29
Dress, makeup
Heels, leggings

Too-big pants, no makeup
Oversized shirt, men's shoes

Regular jeans, little makeup
Sweater, tennis shoes
No gender

Fancy shirt, tie
Skirt, heels
All gender

All these
But I'm
Still me

And that's okay
Genderfluidity *****

Especially when nobody respects you for who you are.
Kai Dec 2019
It’s hard to breathe when I see
A body that doesn’t belong to me
It’s hard to rid water drops
When I ponder when will it ever stop

Cascading brown hair of mine
Dreamed to cut it for a couple of dimes
My lilted feminine voice
Reminds me I am a girl with no choice

Who is that in front of me?
An imposter, a demon, could it be?
My soul breaks into a weep
Until, there stood somebody just like me

Hair silky, smooth, white like snow
His porcelain complexion barely glows
Peach pouty and heart shaped lips
Eyes are deep black caves, like a mystic maze

Earbuds glued into his ears
Face of dopiness or could it be fear?
Slender, short legs carry him
When he passes by I stupidly grin

When will I see him again?
Forget it, he’s likely graduating
Dejection bounced in my mind
Where I’m from, my kind of love was a crime

Two and a half years passed by
I’m in the big school and no longer shy
Walked the great halls with belief
Until, there stood somebody just like me

He did change and so has I
I cut my hair, but he’s got the same eyes
Tousled rough black hair, shaved sides
Much less heavy, which came by a surprise

Our eyes locked like magnets
Studied his lips, my gaze hard as granite
His shoulder brushed against mine
Stomach tingles and my heart intertwines

Staring at him paralyzed
I cannot look away, I don’t know why
He looks like someone I know
Someone I knew back a while ago

Is it wrong if I pursue?
Do you think it’s weird that I follow you?
Hopeless like a winter tree
Until, there stood somebody just like me

Once it’s over I’ll feel blue
When you graduate I won’t forget you
Hope you’ll remember me too
It’s nice to have someone to relate to
This is a poem I wrote for a guy in school who inspires me more than anyone ever could.
Ray Parker Apr 22
can you feel it creeping in
claws scratch softened lines

this skin

was broken from the start
white lies repaint this part
miles Apr 21
my nails are painted with gold glitter.

they reflect the light, and leave small circles
of light dancing on the walls, like it's so excited,
it just can't stop dancing.

my mom hates it.
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