Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jaxey Sep 12
I am a boy
I refuse to believe
This is my body
As I slip on the dress, I think
About how wrong it feels
You go on and on
That I am pretty
But I dream of you saying
Anything else
I don’t want to be
This person
In fact, I love
That this isn’t me
And you will never tell me
I’m a girl
I am not trans, but I wanted to make something special for the people who are. You are beautiful no matter who you are, never forget <3
Emir Sep 10
your normal is different from mine
sometimes the way I view myself
can be gripping adoration
until I look down the pedestal
I stand on
signaled by sparks in my nerves
fueled with thunder and horror
a burdening obstacle
too frequent to avoid

to look at the side profile of my body
envision disordered fathers
partnered with chronic alcohol issues
to replace something once admirable
but not anymore
bottles slip out of grasp
as they fall asleep

to look at my body when binding
envision exaggerated paint on easels
voluptuous shaped circles
for the blueprint of this body
destined to be crammed
in three layers of compression

to be in my body
envision paranoia
in every action took
cranking the car engine
to function faster
as if there isn't more duties it holds
than to drive
envision having reflexes to defend
a potential not definite touch of a hand in a 10 feet radius
envision being hyper aware of sound
as a barn owl to darkness
processing sounds above and below
saturated senses sabotaging stability

your normal is different from mine
corrupted custody of mind
failure to overcome the lies
manifesting in ways
you can't describe
today and always settling
for comfort that's destructive
too irresistible to let go
to repaint my picture
Been putting off publishing this one, I thought I had more to add but I think it's fine the way it is. I carry a lot mentally when I wake up and start my day. I  never realized how exhausting it is to be stressed out about the way people interact with me and hyper focus if they're going to touch me. It's become my normal. I don't second guess it. The same I won't second guess that people don't understand me. It's not hard to see that my normal is different.
I fall to the ground
Broken by words not exactly meant to hurt
I shatter
From the impact of reality
Bedroom’s painted fisherman’s blue

There’s a cut out of Hayden Panettiere naked in a pink bikini with a hula-hoop on the back of the door

Copies of British Vogue desperately hidden underneath the bed accompanying an empty bottle of Glen’s

Manchester United duvet cover and matching pillows to boot

The bin’s filled with pre-packed home-made lunches from the last six months

Wardrobes a collection of ill fitting blue jeans bought for me by grandmother and football jerseys for teams that I’ve never even heard of, yet let alone see play a single game

Uniform ironed and sitting out ready for school on Monday at 8am sharp

***** clothes cover mostly all the floor smelling of Lynx’s finest even though there’s an empty laundry basket just waiting in the corner to be used

Inside one of the woolen blazer’s (that is way too big for me) pockets a single unopened ****** and an AES 256-bit encrypted USB stick

An old PlayStation 2, with a single controller; games including FIFA years through 2004 to now, Tom Clancy’s Splinter Cell, and GTA.

Blood red shoplifted lipstick that’s now melted hidden in the little secret compartment at the back, meant for network expansion.

Artemis Fowl, Alex Rider, and Harry Potter all adorn the bookcase

Physics, Maths, and IT textbooks remain firmly closed on the desk in addition to a smashed phone from me and Daddy’s last “physical altercation”

Lady Gaga’s “I Like it Rough” is playing in the background on repeat…
Corbyn Aug 19
Tears dried on your caramel cheeks
Wondering why there’s so much to be scared of
Thinking about escaping to a better place

Where you do not feel like a burden
Where you had not been a mistake
Where you are not scared of being condemned

But you already had to accept
There’s no where to go and no one to turn to

You have family as reliable as a bike with a broken chain
Friends who are scared of you
And a brain that has not yet developed

Through the terrifying thoughts
Horrible memories
And flat out traumatizing events

You are still fighting

I know most day hurt being in the wrong body
I know most days you just wish you’d been born right

I know that one day you’ll be getting closer
To being able to present how you want

I know you’re scared

But there’s something I need to tell you
Something I need you to trust
Dry your cheeks and listen to me

you are now loved
and
you will be okay

there is nothing wrong with who you are
you’re allowed to be you
we are two months on testosterone and becoming the man we’ve always knew we were

I’m so proud of you
Emir Aug 17
what is life
what am I doing
to complain of doing the same but make no push to do different
it feels miserable that my life is a broken record on repeat
bottles of water in my room judge
so does all the food
they watch as I suffer in silence
my head feels like it's swelling with emotions unreleased
it's so heavy to pick up
I rather rest in bed
with a body already so restless
sleep does nothing for it
I feel like ****
and I can't escape this room
suffocating by the binds of guidelines
drowning in uncomfort of my home
I barely bathe
three times a week if lucky
I hold in my *** because I don't like the way my ***** hits the water
I pinch my ears so I don't have to hear
I jab earphones in so I feel invisible when I leave my room to eat
I blast music so it deafens the depressing state of my reality
the only peace I feel
is when I drift into sleep
only then my reality becomes something more manageable
so why shouldn't I sleep forever?
might need to get back on meds again
Corbyn Aug 2
“Baby girl, you’re a tomboy”
“You need to look how I tell you to”

Youngest of five boys
Was supposed to be the baby girl
I never was
I’ve never been that
                        
            
             I told myself to fit the mold
There’s nothing wrong
There’s nothing wron
There’s nothing wr
...

Dysphoria kills
Hiding in the closet would be the cause of my death
I need to be me
But who am I?
My life has been spent shoving myself into a space never meant for me
Emir Aug 2
what makes you feel granted
manhandling my memories
stirring up my experience
diagnosing with no credentials
gaslighting feelings of fear
forcing to question what happened
mind entering a storm
chaos now runs free roam
flashbacks and dreams
dialogue and overwhelming voices
speaking over another
talking me into a box
leaving me there alone
he pulls the chain around it
and imprisons me with a lock

my teeth chatter when I’m anxious
body starts to shake
hands begin to clench
skin feels wave of heat
and I start to feel faint
stomach tells me I’m in danger
heart throbbing in concert with a clock
my face emotionless and stale
as I try to mask what puts me in more danger
of not feeling collected and vulnerable
trusted if I break a sweat they’ll see
make a sudden movement and touch
touch my soft skin marked with scars
I question which body part is next
as I sit in a freezing shock
that limits my movement
ability to think
and speak
as hands go and *****
I scream so loud
but nobody hears me
I am silent
lips unmoved
internal thoughts crying
there is so much to say
but I can’t get myself to speak
and I want those ***** hands off
but I can’t seem to move
body paralyzed
I start unpacking this to the darkness
never to be opened for my safety
throwing away the feelings
destroying what it felt like
is better than keeping it alive
so please
don’t touch me like that
had a traumatizing day.
Emir Jul 24
5H2
when i look at you
it fills the despondent void
of what i didn't have

when i look at you
it fills space to love harder
needed from the past

when i look at you
i am full of happiness
no longer helpless

when i look at you
there's a kid celebrating
those victories fought

he is a spirit
who goes to rest knowingly
that you avenged him
Tried haiku like poems. definitely was a battle. I'm referencing my ability to smile. I often obsess over pictures of myself being happy and I've realized it's because there has never been a chance in my childhood to be myself, authentically and unapologetically. When I embrace my happiness, it's to fill the voids of unacceptance, and never feeling adequate as a kid. I recognize both behaviors, but as I grow closer to adulthood, it's something to think about.
Emir Jul 13
never thought you'd be mine
here i am pulling on your strings
playing your melodies
while the texture plays me a memory

a lost boy running for his life
in the forest overrun
clones of himself can't escape
for he is his own greatest enemy

a boy with no features
no features of a boy
or what society deems
a boy with hairless skin
and effeminate lips
a boy with no regard to how high
the decibels of his voice was
a boy who ran on his feet while withering his chest
a boy who couldn't always take in deep breaths
a boy who chose how big or how small he wanted to show the world his ***** was
a boy who didn't exactly fit the narrative
a boy nonetheless

but is it now that i am a man?
is it now that when i touch the hair on my face, it makes me he?
is it the voice i desperately tried to craft? or is it my piece of clothing that binds the skin, and bone of my body?
is it my shoes and how they're bigger and longer? maybe it's my laugh and smile that gives it away.
maybe it's nothing at all.
and i'm deemed a man for a selfish binary who doesn't care about my traumatic experiences being hunted by my own mind.

she is blind to her crashing disaster.
she'll grant me with an immunity called privilege.
immunity from being recognized as a woman, and being treated as such by code.

but at least my ****** hair is tangible.
I was caressing my ****** hair and noticed it's getting really thick and coarse. Had to write about it because it's so odd knowing a version before the present me didn't have it, in this exact moment. It feels familiar yet so, foreign. It makes me question why ****** hair or anything deemed masculine is even masculine to begin with. Where did the labels come from? "at least my ****** hair is tangible" is to show, the system in which we uphold labels and micro labels can potentially be harmful, and in my case it is, but as an outcome I got something.
Next page