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#genderdysphoria
You never asked to be the world or my ending salvation But you should have known the prominent features I'd built Granted, you were a piece of a puzzle I finished at the end but you never fit so I cut surrounding pieces to finish the end The picture never unfolded the way I knew it should be, my body never fit the gaps in the mirror in my mind, the holes along my sides the bulge at my heart You never chose to be the world or a reasoning admiration But you should have known the prominent habits I'd held Then again you were a piece of a puzzle you finished at the end but you never fit mine I forgot you weren't mine
0
Feb 8
Feb 8, 2026 at 11:36 PM UTC
Angel, priest, monarch
Take your *** And make a new start Turn it over because the reason you are needing is there. It's revolving around itself and you, slowly to prove its penny Cover it up because the people you get viewed by. They're spinning ideas in their minds, to scream, change at you and for you, to prove its penny Make more sense, It's not ladylike to be A poet, or a writer. To tell tales and metaphors that spin on the world to prove its cent Quickly hide now, there's something after your holding bars. It's not his fault he roams but it sure does hurt when he cries to clean his craving Turn it over again because it's just what you need, to change who you were for into who you are, a person for the world to see and guess. To play jeopardy over your body, screaming runes you scribble out Crank the wheel now, spin the bottle, listen to the wind as it's screams get coated in a melody it never sung. Press the level now, pray to and for the sky to fall a penny to prove Take your shovel And make a restart
0
Jan 31
Jan 31, 2026 at 10:19 PM UTC
Garden of Eden
All I am is misgendered She instead of he She instead of it She instead of they She instead of ze Her instead of him Her instead of its Her instead of them Her instead of zir Always pretending Fake smile hiding the pain never truly existing
0
Jan 26
Jan 26, 2026 at 12:20 PM UTC
Dysphoric
i'm trapped in a pink cage with ribbons, lace and bows. let me out. i'm trapped in a pink cage with ***** wide hips and a squeaky voice. i'm not a girl. i'm trapped in a pink cage with dresses, skirts and the word she. stop looking at me. i'm trapped in a pink cage with everything wrong. i didn't want to be like this. blue paint all over, trying to hide what i am. i'm a boy. i'm a boy. pink patches peek through. _i'm not ashamed._
0
Oct 28, 2025
Oct 28, 2025 at 8:51 PM UTC
pink cage
I wish I were a boy. I wish I could ruffle my dark hair I wish I could kiss other boys I wish they'd see me as a boy too I wish I could dress in boxers I wish my neck's apple was seen when I laugh I wish my voice was rough and smooth I wish girls looked at me and think I wish he were a boy.
0
Sep 24, 2025
Sep 24, 2025 at 8:44 AM UTC
I wish
Her Her Her Her You want to see her in a pretty dress That restricts the ribs, the lungs Like my makeshift chest binder from years back Her in a sparkly tiara That weighs down the head And makes me look down          down Down at her shoes High-heeled and floral In which I stumble In her father-daughter dance Where he smiles bright At his brilliant, beautiful- Her blowing out the candles Wishing for ... I've only ever wished to rid of her, And now here I am hidden behind these candles In this dance, Shoes, Tiara, Dress, Body, Her.
0
Dec 28, 2024
Dec 28, 2024 at 1:08 PM UTC
Quince
I wonder, a lot of the time, what it would be like if I were born a boy. Would I be happier? Relieved from this feeling to over-masculinize myself to combat the more obvious feminine features... The "girl" voice "Girl" body "Girl" hair "Girl" name "Girl" demeanor "Girl" "Girl" "Girl" Baby "Girl" ... What if I were born a baby "Boy" Well then, that wouldn't make it any better, now would it. Then it would all be, "Boy" "Boy" "Boy" "Boy" demeanor "Boy" name "Boy" hair "Boy" body "Boy" voice So, even if my chromosomes were lost an X, had a Y instead, I would still be bound to the same fate. The same hurt that is gender dysphoria. Society- or, God?- has only made two categories, two choices two sexes two lives two boxes. I wonder, then, what it would be like if that wasn't so.
0
Nov 25, 2024
Nov 25, 2024 at 5:01 PM UTC
Baby boxes
I am ‘dying’, that’s what some say; killing beauty to leave ugliness behind. I ‘mutilate’, though I seemed butchered before. I ‘desecrate’, though I feel myself violated after the first blood. I ‘poison’ myself, though I felt a venom flowing in me long before. I **** searching for a mirage, something that isn’t meant to be. But that’s not what I’m doing. I trim what has been holding me down to become weightless. I expose myself to make myself stronger and give color to a blank canvas. I nourish myself with what my body has been craving to keep myself alive. ‘You killed her!’ some cry. No, I am taking off the mask and shedding the skin since it was getting too stuffy to breathe.
0
Apr 19, 2024
Apr 19, 2024 at 9:35 AM UTC
Dying
If I could be He, I'd grin ear to ear. I'd laugh with a new voice, and sing with boisterous cheer. If I could be He, I'd dance the night away. I'd twirl around a girl, and ask her if she'd stay. If I could be He, I'd no longer have to bind. I'd lay shirtless on the beach, and leave bottled messages to find. If I could be He, which I might never be, I'd be eternally happy. And I'd finally be me.
0
May 25, 2019
May 25, 2019 at 6:46 PM UTC
If I Could Be He
i always wanted to be a fairy; to be small, skinny, and free to be able to fly, soar through the clouds, and touch the sun i longed to be a vampire so i could be beautifully pale, survive on liquid alone, and be asleep all day i wished to be a zombie so i didn’t have to eat, so i could see my ribs, and just rest in peace i prayed to be a witch, or a warlock; make people see me for me, and see me as a boy i just want it all to get better
0
Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 5:27 PM UTC
live
You scream THEM You shout it from the rooftops Bellowing until you throat cracks But they hear SHE 'She' they say with sweet smiles You continue your shouts Begging them to understand THEM you wail Your voice breaks as you sink to the ground They lay a comforting hand on your shoulder Then whisper in your ear with breath like a poisonous flower 'She'
0
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 1:49 PM UTC
Them
The fear of your own flesh The skin that cages you helplessly As a fish frozen inside a lake Banished from the sunsets lovely Cold, stagnant and painful The knowing your body is raw Sorrow one could only feel in dreams Just as fearful as knowing it’s wrong Skin caging us so tightly, like The potatoes your aunt used to peel Sitting in your grandmas chair The memories of when you were better A child riding a half broken bike Figuring out how to get the jelly jar to seal Putting up and braiding long hair Writing important Christmas letters Now all that fills you is worry Your family cant understand the Skin they gave you isnt fitting And all you can explain is because Because it’s how you grew up Because it’s how you’ve become Because your head was never ******* on right And now you fear being alone Now all that you are is someone Your family doesn’t know but I swear As you explore on your own You find people who love and care They love and care and hold you Peeling potatoes of their own And together you watch the sunset As you explore you wont ever be alone
0
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 3:36 PM UTC
home
hi! my name is DEADNAME i hear it resonate through my dysphoria, i recoil from my body. i desperately want to hold a match stick up to my birth certificate and watch every letter blacken into ash, when i grow up to be a tombstone i want you to burn me too. ignite all the dresses i wore to church. my name is WOMAN and no matter how many times i insist that it is not, i will be categorized with a quaking punch in my stomach and i will throw up SHE. no matter how many times i jam this hoodie into a washing machine it will reek of MISS. i am cloaked with words of caution to the public (WARNING: PROBABLY JUST A PHASE) in attempts to subdue the truth because if it unraveled i would be myself, and myself will shatter minds and destroy virtue because my psyche is a crime scene, my humanity is a dangerous opinion, and my identity is a car crash. it is a siren wailing magenta; it wraps around my chest like police tape- i wish i could use it as a binder. those knuckles feel infinitely more therapeutic than the aftershock of FEMALE. i would much rather be bruised and downtrodden and battered and beaten from every centimeter of my body than to submit to the declarations of GIRL. i want you to punch me again please punch me again please punch me again please punch me again please punch me again please my name is DELUSIONAL and i heal paper cuts with bow ties because it’s as close as i can get to a suit when me and my wardrobe are confined within the same nine square feet of wooden floor. i still come close to weeping when i get my flu shot, but fill that syringe with testosterone and by god you can slay me like a beast, skewer that needle through my skin like a katana and i will embrace it. i will live for the torment, pretty hurts and, by god, i am a ********* to mask the sting by god i will sing like a gospel, a gospel who gets called handsome by strangers and owns a voice deep as a ********* ravine. my name is SNOWFLAKE and i hope i give you hypothermia, ******* my name is YOUNG LADY and while filling out my passport application i flooded the box with an M beside it with ink and never told my mother and i smiled to myself for the first time that week and i still don’t regret it, i will never regret it because no matter how many times i hear edicts of DAUGHTER she can never take that precious M away from me. my name is SINNER and i am a disgrace to faith. a mutant, a freak, an abomination, a monstrosity, not a man- just a girl who aspires to mutilate herself into an excuse for one. i am a shapeshifting sorcerer, you see LESS THAN HUMAN. little do you know i am a ******* DEMIGOD and i may be the owner of weeping willow twigs for arms and i may be left on the brink of passing out when i climb up the stairs but i will grip you by the collar of your shirt and haul you into hell with me on the other side of this mirror, by god. my name is BLAISE. i found this out at age eleven. i deciphered myself at age eleven. it’s just one syllable. it is a firecracker mistaken for a gunshot and i will leave cisnormativity riddled with bullets and the pistol’s name will be BLAISE. a kid from middle school will run into me on the street and tell me they can’t quite remember what my name is and i’ll shamelessly rewrite history and remind them, it’s BLAISE; a lady at starbucks will ask what to write on my cup and i will say BLAISE and she’ll spell it 'blaze', but i don't give a **** it’s good enough, i will scream my revelation from my fire escape at four in the morning in triumph MY NAME IS BLAISE and someone will yell back from their car HEY BLAISE, SHUT THE **** UP and i’ll take it as a tribute, BLAISE is a MAN and HE sliced his body open and poured ecstasy inside when a cashier called him SIR that one time at walgreens. BLAISE is yet another piece of proof that the assignment received by some ****** in a lab coat doesn’t have to be a prison and you don’t fully understand these boxes we’re crammed in until you break them yourself. BLAISE'S individuality is authentic, HIS love is authentic, HIS reflection in the mirror is authentic, and its name is BLAISE. BLAISE found out the life expectancy of a transgender person is around thirty-two years old and you better believe that BLAISE will live to be thirty-three and HE will give a little bit of hope to trans youth who don’t even think they’ll be able to wake up to sixteen and HE will give a big ol’ **** you to everyone who doesn’t think HE deserves to breathe in their world for that long, by god, you better believe that BLAISE will live to be thirty-three, you better believe that BLAISE will make it to thirty-three, you better believe that HE will make it to thirty-three, you better believe that I will make it to thirty-three.
0
Jun 15, 2017
Jun 15, 2017 at 5:09 PM UTC
synonyms for blaise
hi! my name is DEADNAME i hear it resonate through my dysphoria, i recoil from my body. i desperately want to hold a match stick up to my birth certificate and watch every letter blacken into ash, when i grow up to be a tombstone i want you to burn me too. ignite all the dresses i wore to church. my name is WOMAN and no matter how many times i insist that it is not, i will be categorized with a quaking punch in my stomach and i will throw up SHE. no matter how many times i jam this hoodie into a washing machine it will reek of MISS. i am cloaked with words of caution to the public (WARNING: PROBABLY JUST A PHASE) in attempts to subdue the truth because if it unraveled i would be myself, and myself will shatter minds and destroy virtue because my psyche is a crime scene, my humanity is a dangerous opinion, and my identity is a car crash. it is a siren wailing magenta; it wraps around my chest like police tape- i wish i could use it as a binder. those knuckles feel infinitely more therapeutic than the aftershock of FEMALE. i would much rather be bruised and downtrodden and battered and beaten from every centimeter of my body than to submit to the declarations of GIRL. i want you to punch me again please punch me again please punch me again please punch me again please punch me again please my name is DELUSIONAL and i heal paper cuts with bow ties because it’s as close as i can get to a suit when me and my wardrobe are confined within the same nine square feet of wooden floor. i still come close to weeping when i get my flu shot, but fill that syringe with testosterone and by god you can slay me like a beast, skewer that needle through my skin like a katana and i will embrace it. i will live for the torment, pretty hurts and, by god, i am a ********* to mask the sting by god i will sing like a gospel, a gospel who gets called handsome by strangers and owns a voice deep as a ********* ravine. my name is SNOWFLAKE and i hope i give you hypothermia, ******* my name is YOUNG LADY and while filling out my passport application i flooded the box with an M beside it with ink and never told my mother and i smiled to myself for the first time that week and i still don’t regret it, i will never regret it because no matter how many times i hear edicts of DAUGHTER she can never take that precious M away from me. my name is SINNER and i am a disgrace to faith. a mutant, a freak, an abomination, a monstrosity, not a man- just a girl who aspires to mutilate herself into an excuse for one. i am a shapeshifting sorcerer, you see LESS THAN HUMAN. little do you know i am a ******* DEMIGOD and i may be the owner of weeping willow twigs for arms and i may be left on the brink of passing out when i climb up the stairs but i will grip you by the collar of your shirt and haul you into hell with me on the other side of this mirror, by god. my name is BLAISE. i found this out at age eleven. i deciphered myself at age eleven. it’s just one syllable. it is a firecracker mistaken for a gunshot and i will leave cisnormativity riddled with bullets and the pistol’s name will be BLAISE. a kid from middle school will run into me on the street and tell me they can’t quite remember what my name is and i’ll shamelessly rewrite history and remind them, it’s BLAISE; a lady at starbucks will ask what to write on my cup and i will say BLAISE and she’ll spell it 'blaze', but i don't give a **** it’s good enough, i will scream my revelation from my fire escape at four in the morning in triumph MY NAME IS BLAISE and someone will yell back from their car HEY BLAISE, SHUT THE **** UP and i’ll take it as a tribute, BLAISE is a MAN and HE sliced his body open and poured ecstasy inside when a cashier called him SIR that one time at walgreens. BLAISE is yet another piece of proof that the assignment received by some ****** in a lab coat doesn’t have to be a prison and you don’t fully understand these boxes we’re crammed in until you break them yourself. BLAISE'S individuality is authentic, HIS love is authentic, HIS reflection in the mirror is authentic, and its name is BLAISE. BLAISE found out the life expectancy of a transgender person is around thirty-two years old and you better believe that BLAISE will live to be thirty-three and HE will give a little bit of hope to trans youth who don’t even think they’ll be able to wake up to sixteen and HE will give a big ol’ **** you to everyone who doesn’t think HE deserves to breathe in their world for that long, by god, you better believe that BLAISE will live to be thirty-three, you better believe that BLAISE will make it to thirty-three, you better believe that HE will make it to thirty-three, you better believe that I will make it to thirty-three.
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14
It can happen any place any time. The feeling of you not being who you are or what you want. The iron grip in your chest telling you that you are wrong. The darkness in your heart telling you that this is not what you are. Feeling that you are a girl when you are meant to be a guy. Feeling like a guy when you are meant to be a girl. Feeling like you will never get to the point of being who you want to be. Feeling alone in the battle of this of identity and your soul. Alone you feel and nothing can fix it. But it will slowly go away in time. Leaving you woth little confidence and power to make it through the day.
0
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 5:30 PM UTC
Gender Dysphoria
Before me stands a 'mirror', Before my eyes open, You tell me to prepare myself, For I am about to see my reflection- A live image of myself. So I open my eyes. And I scream. And I run. For what I see is not who I am.
0
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 1:43 PM UTC
Mirror
A male child born, sex-wise, His mind not made-up, Not by a long shot. He needs time to grow, For now he could dress Like Oscar Wilde, Anyway's good for this child. At six he follows Male role models, So confused. Dysphoria soon insists, Sets in to ambiguity, Leading him to his feminine side, Where her gender surely resides.
0
Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 10:56 AM UTC
Dysphoria
you call me a sweet girl, tell me to behave like a lady, I am your little princess. But what if I don't want to be a princess? Am not a lady? And don't feel like a sweet little girl? you call me a pretty girl, a compliment, but an insult for me. you don't see. in your eyes I am your daugther, Am I a girl, But sometimes I just want to be a boy.
0
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 5:15 AM UTC
Not your princess today
Something is wrong with me, I don't know what, but I am different, I feel different, I don't feel like I fit in, There is no place for me, not in this society, I am sorry, but I am not -can not- be, who you want me to be, I am different, Something is wrong with me, I don't know what, But something isn't right, I am sorry, I am not who I should be, sorry that I don't fit in, I can't help that something is wrong with me
0
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 3:10 PM UTC
Something is wrong with me
I am locked up in this body, In this world of lies, And deep down I know, I will never be free
0
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 3:06 PM UTC
In this body I will never be free