#agender
The girl in the mirror is someone I don't recognize,
This definitely isn't Paradise,
How can I look her in the eyes?
She definitely isn't idolized,
I don't think she's realized,
Oct 19, 2025
Oct 19, 2025 at 10:44 AM UTC
A mask that everyone could see
Something to hide behind
A “shield” for me
It stung like needles
Burned like a brand
This mask placed by a hollow hand
I could never be rid of it
Never just be free
For what would my family think of me
It took a push from someone
A helpful hand
To finally remove that burning brand
They helped me take off the mask
Saw what was inside
And accepted me as I sat there and cried
They gave me a space
A place to be free
Until I was able to finally be me
I went to see my family
Without the mask, in open air
I steeled myself to be prepared
But instead of yelling
Of bitter frost
I found that my hope was not lost
I met with acceptance
Knowing care
A hearth’s warmth and gentle air
One day I left the mask behind
Not just for that day, but for all time
The burning brand, the stinging mark
Left in that closet in the dark
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 5:54 PM UTC
As we sat in the car and the sun declined, the world turned to a peach hue and dimmed. The pouring rain from not only an hour before still felt as if it lingered in the air, sticking to my skin. A car joined us in the parking lot and started staring to the East, we both turned our gaze to align with theirs and saw a perfect rainbow accompanied by a faded second. And as we sat there and reflected on the topic of the human perseption of light, I found a moment to ask, "Can I kiss you so we can remember this moment forever?"
They replied, "of course".
Aug 10, 2020
Aug 10, 2020 at 4:05 PM UTC
Dress, makeup
Heels, leggings
Feminine
Too-big pants, no makeup
Oversized shirt, men's shoes
Masculine
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
Apr 29, 2020
Apr 29, 2020 at 7:54 PM UTC
Long beautiful hair
Rosy cheeks
Red lips
Framed eyes
Who am I looking at
This Face in the Mirror
It's not mine
These amazing curves
This body to be envied
This amazing dress
These pale blue eyes
This Face in the Mirror
Feb 12, 2020
Feb 12, 2020 at 11:59 AM UTC
Where is home? Where is the place that I belong?
I stare into the mirror and see someone else
Long hair, makeup, wearing a dress
Why is my reflection a stranger?
Why isn't the place where my soul dwells
not a place I can call home?
Where is the place that I can go
when I need someone to rely on?
Where is the place where someone understands?
Where is the place where I don't have to hide?
A place where I can let my guard down,
and break the walls that surround my heart
When can I spread my wings?
When will I arrive
To a place where I can finally see myself in each mirror I turn to
To a place where I belong?
To a place where I can call home?
I know the fight to get home
Is a long and hard one,
full of pain and sorrow
Full of tears and bitterness
Though I am in a dark tunnel now
I can see the light, at the end of the darkness
a place where I can truly be me
A place where no one stops and stares
and asks me what is wrong with me
A place where no one looks at me strangely
A place where I don't have to be scared
It's not my time to spread my wings yet
But when I do, I will touch the sky and be at the peak of my life
and finally...
be surrounded by people I can truly call a family
A place full of love
A place where I can truly be me
To a place I call home
Jan 16, 2020
Jan 16, 2020 at 7:49 PM UTC
What is it, how can we tell?
Are we forced into it, a cell?
A trapped enclosure, a set of ways
Dedicated to telling one how to be.
Not inherently bad,
But dangerous,
When we talk about
Dreaded gender.
Keep your codes for morals
Let me wear my skirt.
My dressed all lay dusty
Because I was afraid I would be
Looked at
As lesser.
No longer,
For I am truly,
Not akin to a single
Form of gender.
The one true way
That of self-realization
Comes from the acknowledgement
That I am me
Male, female, none, both.
I am Bede.
Sep 23, 2019
Sep 23, 2019 at 7:56 PM UTC
There is this person
with electric blue hair
who I am constantly
intrigued by.
Look at their skin;
like porcelain, it's so
pale
and icy cold.
Their eyes speak to my heart--
the green and brown
moving in harmony
and making me smile.
They always have
black eye shadow around
these brown and green irises;
so bold.
I can't tell if they're a boy
or a girl--
maybe they're both
or neither.
They almost never speak
But their voice moves
smooth like milk
And their laugh is contagious.
But underneath their fake smiles
I know their secret--
The red marks that cover their skin
The scars that speak for themselves.
Jan 4, 2019
Jan 4, 2019 at 2:12 PM UTC
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.
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 2:30 AM UTC
A life without gender.
Giving me my freedom that was taken.
End to my imprisonment by gender roles.
No I am not mistaken.
Don't ask me if I'm a girl or a boy.
Either is just not me.
Rather I am a person, a human being that is free.
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 12:56 AM UTC
While I likely have no rhythm
and tend to trip over my feet
that would hold back a dance.
While I have debilitating anxiety
that highlights others’ stares
I may still give it a chance.
No, see, the reason I won’t dance
has way more to do with my body
and the fact that I’m trans.
As I move through the world
I feel the weight of my identity
in both physical and mental distress.
Of course everyone has baggage
that doesn’t stop them from jiving
but not everyone has to carry it on their chest.
Dancing requires movement of my entire frame
but the person I see in my head
isn’t the one that light reflects.
How can I move without highlighting
the feminine figure my clothes conceal?
How can I jive
while hiding how my chest wiggles?
Can they tell?
Girl?
Guy?
What do they see?
The questions anchor my body to the ground
So I cannot move.
I cannot dance.
Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 3:48 AM UTC
i know what it is like
when your fortress of solitude doesn't look like you
you get looked at but somebody else is being seen
i know because that happens to me too
i don't know whose body this is but i want
her to come back and make it convenient again
that isn't really it, definitely not it
i don't know what i want
i have to write this because i know if i said it
or read it out loud
it wouldn't be my voice that you hear
and that's the whole thing, isn't it?
i'm sorry i called you cute but i
wasn't talking about You i was
talking about your idea to kiss my nose
and the message you left on my refrigerator
that was you, in there, i see you
i know that you are in there and
i am in here too
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 1:53 PM UTC
They make him smile.
Their eyes shows him a story.
Their heart speaks the words that their mouth can not form.
The blush that rises on their face tells him the truth.
Their words mean something to him.
Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 10:02 AM UTC
1. take a moment to point out a few positive things you love about your body, the positives can make the negatives seem just a little less important and sometimes thats enough.
2. take a look into the past at how far youve come.
3. surround yourself with people who understand or may be going through the same thing, i promise theyll do their best to help you get through this.
4. focus on the amazing things you and your body can do.
5. take a time out, slow everything down and just think about yourself for a little while. take breaks and just focus on breathing.
6. write, write, write. ive always found it easier to write how i feel than to say it.
7. be easy on yourself, please.
8. take a deep breath.
9. avoid spaces or people that will bring you down, they arent good for you.
10. allow yourself to feel, everything, the good and bad feelings but dont let them overpower you
11. just take a minute for yourself, let yourself breathe and remember: what youre feeling is okay, and it will get better.
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 11:37 PM UTC
i used to think myself immortal.
see, i grew up spanish next to english
and the only nouns left genderless
were ones i didn't know to say.
so i'd look at empty sky
(not el cielo, not with nothing to hold)
and tell my friends it was me up there.
you: imagine the god-named planetas.
i was the backdrop to their orbits,
not bound to el fondo, but more than words.
now i know el abismo is beyond me
but the only genderless thing i knew
was so deep i'd drown just looking.
now i know the word agender
but remember:
before i was this
i was infinite.
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 8:05 PM UTC
I met with a man today,
although
not so much a man as….
a boyish adult.
He told me he liked me,
or perhaps “loved” would be
a better description.
I was showered with things that most
people would love to hear constantly:
Compliments.
I…..am not one of those people.
Now, that’s just the oversimplified version.
A more detailed explanation would go like this:
I met with a man today,
although
not so much a man as…
a boyish adult.
We went out for lunch,
and left there around five hours later.
For the first three,
we were doing all right.
Managing to have pleasant conversation
we even discussed our views on religion.
The last two hours
however
I am not sure how I managed to endure.
He told me he had "fallen in love with me",
and that every word I spoke had him falling deeper.
I explained that I have absolutely zero interest in any such things
*(love, romance, all that jazz other people crave,
you know how it is)*
I however, am not capable of feeling those sorts of attractions.
(don't want to be either)
As I spoke, he would reply by saying he was falling harder...
that I was pretty, handsome, cute, beautiful….etc.
Not a word of what I said went into his head.
***And I knew it from the expression on his face,
that I was only being viewed as something to conquer.
To…..”fix”.***
That made the compliments even worse.
***I hate compliments to begin with,
at least ones in regards to my appearance.
For me, they are one of the worst triggers
on my extremely long list.
So is being treated like I’m broken.***
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 3:20 AM UTC