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David Abraham Sep 2018
He wished to be one,
but stronger than he, the laws
governing his body.
09/19/2018 2238
Ray Ross Sep 2018
Mixing ***** and juices,
On Tuesday morning, Monday night,
The parents are asleep.
The stars are so bright.

My body is a temple,
You're **** right.
If it feels good enough,
I'll respect it tonight.

Bandage my chest,
Hurts my ribcage,
I’m a ******* kid,
Shouldn't have to be brave.

You should've been a brother,
Should've got the name right,
Should've been her son,
Instead I'm drinking tonight.
Kilano Saddler Sep 2018
I asked my mother once,
What would you have done if I was born a girl?

She offered a name she considered,
but not the blessing—-
not the consideration that maybe,
just maybe,

I wasn’t supposed to be
quite like this.
Grey Pryor Sep 2018
I have been debating right and wrong my whole life.
I have been standing on a tightrope waiting for my emotions to crave it.
Being taught my favorite color since age 2 and the way I was supposed to be.
I have truly learned a few number of things,
the most important being suicide isn't the worst thing.
Failing to completely be who everyone chose you to be is the worst thing.
Not wearing a dress and tights to church on Sunday, not loving flowers or the color pink.
The worst thing is choosing who YOU want to be.
So I think I have found the reason it is more likely for someone like me to **** themselves off.
I am not who they or you wanted me to be.
I am free.
Sara Kellie Aug 2018
All my cups are put away,
all finished for the day.
I sit here quietly on my own
with nothing much to say.
Well no, ok that's not entirely true,
things would be different
sat here with you.

Remember how we'd dance to ads,
the ditties on TV.
We'd nod our heads,
a couple of berks.
Yeah, didn't we have some quirks.

These things I need to find again,
but can't envisage when.
I sit here and I wonder,
"Will I ever find you again"

Poetry by Kaydee.
Dedicated to my wife Natalie.
Sara Kellie Aug 2018
You stopped to say hey,
but then you must,
you were with friends
so you just,
what?
You must what?

We chatted before,
no friends,
lust?
What?
You lust what?

You can't be true to you!
So what of me?
Disgust or lust?

Poetry by Kaydee.
A common occurrence that I know only too well.
ethan Aug 2018
when i was a freshman one of my friends told me that there was a girl who was talking about me
asking why i was pretending to be straight and that everyone could tell that i was gay
my friends and i laughed it off like children and i quipped “i’m not pretending anything, just ask anyone and they’ll know”

now, i think of the rainbow socks, the only thing i own with a rainbow on it, being shoved down to the bottom of my sock drawer as if it would pop out at any minute and proclaim it’s existence if it were any higher. now, i think of the rainbow highlight that i applies in the bathroom at midnight, pausing every now and again to make sure i was alone. Now, i think of the pride nail art that i scrubbed off my nails minutes after i painted it on. now, i think of the last word in a poem that i wrote and turned in, scared i was being too obvious with the word they.

now, i think of the horrible creature sitting in my chest that simultaneously begs to never tell my secrets and to also scream them from the roof tops. i think of the sludge that lives in me and climbs up my throat, whispering safety into my ear while also ripping apart everything it touches. i think of the pain i feel whenever i say that i’m gay, because it makes things easier if the works sees me as a girl who loves other girls.

before thinking of this poem i had sat back and wondered how many bottles it would take of the various prescription medicines that my parents kept in the kitchen cabinet to **** me. when i remembered the name they would put on the tombstone i stopped and walked away. i remember the time where i couldn’t walk away and i had reached in and grabbed a full bottle of ibuprofen and i took a single one, hoping that my screaming head could be sated by the feeling of a single pill crawling down my throat.

i had a dream last night about someone called addison.
they looked me in the eyes and before i even knew what they looked like their physical form flickered until they were a bright shining star in a vaguely human form.

they sat next to me as we floated in a void on a picnic blanket and they put their arm around my shoulder which felt like a hug from someone i used to know but had forgotten
i stared at their glasses that looked too much like mine as they flickered in and out of existence and they told me i was not where i was supposed to be.

i didnt ask them where but they heard it anyways as if breaking into my thoughts. they answered that they could not tell me and when i thought why they said they didn’t want to spoil the fun of a brighter future for them and me.

i woke up with the taste of lavender on my tongue and the desire to change my name.
i’m not sure who i want to be
zero Aug 2018
Is there anything purer
than the gaze of a dog, laying
across your lap or curled to
the motion of your legs?
Feeling their heart beat
on your calf, ‘protect me
they say, ‘as, in turn, I protect thee
They sigh. Warm breath on cold nights.
Amber eyes if shone
directly at them.
Growling at something in
The corner; a moth or Baphomet,
but whats the difference in their gaze?
Loyal to the touch,
Loving to the heart,
Linked to the soul
And then;
they depart.
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