#lgbtqa
Your dress was plum;
although, my fantasies remember Maroon.
Dancing in God’s house, you moved like scripta,
and I burned like the sinner’s hands.
Had you blushed near me again, I was going
to hold it against myself.
Thrice removed
(grief-stricken) and held against him,
I am empty of you.
But not yet extinguished from your singe of interest,
of your reading me like The Price of Salt.
Wondering, suppose I call, if your
arrival would be the difference of a few vowels.
Divine intervention, master of my curiosity,
I spend my evenings drunk on forbidden fruits.
Pardon my chaos talking in triangles–
of lust’s longing in color–
our tortured poet already said it best.
Sep 15, 2024
Sep 15, 2024 at 4:27 PM UTC
My gender can change at the flip of a switch
They say it's impossible They say it's just a glitch
They ask if I'm male, female or non-binary
I'm all three I'll tell them finally
that's when They start to frown
and look at me like I'm a clown
"you can't have all three you must choose one!"
"the science doesn't support it, ***
how do you explain it then
when my gender decides to flip again
when I go from someone who loves herself
to someone who can't look at himself
when I can't stand to be either gender
I refuse to stand by and be a pretender
Is it too much to ask for you to respect me?
To let me be myself, to let me be free?
To ask me what my pronouns are
when you see me at a bar?
my gender is mine you will not correct it
you will not make me feel like a misfit
because I know who I am, what I am
there is no right answer to this exam
my gender is fluid
don't act like you're clueless
because I don't fit in a neat little box
I don't care if you think its a paradox
because you don't get a say
in who I am today
I'm not nonbinary
I'm not trans
I'm fluid
Jul 4, 2020
Jul 4, 2020 at 6:13 PM UTC
there's one kind of race
the human race...
but we divided the human race by color
its a race of color
black, brown and asian vs. white
its a race of ***
man vs. women
its a race of
LGBTQA+ vs. straight
what's the point of this race
if we know who would live with no guilts
May 30, 2020
May 30, 2020 at 2:39 PM UTC
To the one I was waiting for, I’ve had my fill. 💋
I know that I’m worth something. I may not know what that is yet, but I’m slowly learning.
To the one who made me slow down, I’m truly so thankful you were blinded.
May have stayed and lost myself, trapped away inside it.
To the one who wouldn’t stop, and I made the mistake of going back.
I don’t miss you, at all.
To the one I took care of, I miss you, a lot.
You’ve grown though, beyond me, and I’m so proud.
To the one who opened my eye,
I know someday you’ll be in my shoes, with someone looking up at you, and you’ll feel the same sting. You’ll feel the same pain. I’m sorry in advance, it ******* hurts.
To the one who doesn’t know, who hasn’t shown up to the party yet.
I don’t want you as much as I thought. I absolutely love the chase, certainly love to feel important and I’ve never stopped wanting to want, this just isn’t for us.
To everyone else who may show up along the way, be warned.
I’m quite content even though- somedays it rains, and somedays it pours.
May 12, 2020
May 12, 2020 at 5:27 PM UTC
When it rains,
hide me by
your arms.
When it's sunny,
take me in a picnic
With your eyes.
When it's windy,
let's talk
about love.
But
in a stormy day,
hold me hard
and ..
Can you sing for me?
Aug 19, 2019
Aug 19, 2019 at 4:03 PM UTC
The walls surround me.
I am trapped.
It's almost as if the ability to breathe has been stolen from me.
I can't see anything but the pale flesh encasing my hands.
I see the door,
I see the way out.
But for the life of me, I can't take it.
The fear is too strong, too encompassing.
I want to cry,
I want to scream;
WHY CAN'T I BE STRONG?
Why oh why for the life of me,
Can't I break free?
I try to fight the panic down,
I really do.
But every time the words are on the edge of my tongue,
They never come out.
Everything remaining unspoken threatening to choke me.
I start to tumble down.
I can't find my footing,
people now know.
My perfectly perfected facade is crumbling down.
The ground is unsteady,
I am sobbing now.
Everyone knows so I have to bury it all underground.
But this is what I wanted,
To have people know.
To finally not be alone in the dark.
To have the words that have laid unspoken,
Finally, come rushing out.
I'm still not ready,
I don't know what I am.
I don't know who I should be.
I didn't choose this time.
I didn't choose this life.
And yet, cruel fate has chosen it for me.
So many people are so free.
Their walls are gone, and they can breathe.
I want to feel that, I do, but I don't think I can.
At least not right now.
I will choose when I break free,
I will choose when I get to breathe.
For now, I will return to my own hell.
Where I hope I break free before the choking fear threatens to break me.
Jun 18, 2019
Jun 18, 2019 at 1:08 AM UTC
Oh sweetheart
you're as reliable as a thumb tack
holding up a poster to an event
you've always wanted to go to
as predictable as a Tuesday
at a minimum wage job
with open availability
cute as the button on a leather jacket
that poped off as soon
as the thread got loose
as fascinating as an ordinary moment
caught at a new angle on a rainy day
a puzzle I don't want to finish
but can't stop putting together
a book written in simple words
with a twist that has me hooked
as frustrating as a love poem
written by someone
who doesn't know how to love
not like this
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 6:41 PM UTC
I see a familiar face
in a dusty puzzle
dumped from the box
hidden behind the viola
a fragment of her eye
and a bit of her hair
painted on the piece
stuck in the roots of
a half dead bloom
most of the peices
must have been burried
several seasons ago
I have half a mind
to let it rot till
the pink of her lips
fades
Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 1:03 PM UTC
Gal?
Pal?
Wait, what now?
How?
Bound to get some questions from this, some hate; a backlash. The funny side of this is my middle name can basically be a backslash.
Some will say I don't have to mention.
Others will say I'm doing it for attention.
I'm doing it because I don't know.
I'm putting my confusion fully on show.
Whoohoo! Yippie! Let's go!
I don't have to be shy.
So what? Sometimes, I feel pretty much, like a guy
Perhaps, the majority will stigmatise.
For you see, my gender does not fit into a pretty little box, at least not in society’s eyes
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 5:38 PM UTC
When I look at you, I feel like I am dying. Not the bad kind of dying, but the kind of dying where my lungs forget how to function and the oxygen can't seem to find its' way in.
The kind of dying where every hair on my body stands straight up, the muscles contracting like an icy wind just crept up my spine- frigid and tempting.
My eyes can't seem to break their gaze from you, like one of those cheesey scenes from a romance movie where they zoom in slowly on the person's face- locked on fixation.
My heart-rate slows, making it feel like there's no blood left in my body to pump, movements as slow as an IV drip full of Morphine.
Like my veins closed up and are rejecting circulation- just as i am rejecting focus on anything but you.
I can feel a warmth creep through me, like venom seeping into my blood after a deadly bite from a pit viper- just the perfect temperature to hatch the thousands of cocoons resting in my stomach lining.
I go to open my mouth, to speak to you, to converse about silly things like why the moon and sun never seem to meet, or why human toes are so odd- but all that seems to break its' way out of my body are butterflies of the most potent vibrancy, colors that don't even have names.
Colors so vivid and enchanting that only fairytales and daydreams could house them, conjure them up with spells of the highest power.
Your eyes catch me staring and I go weak in the knees- my body unable to decide whether it'd rather collapse to the ground in a motionless pile, sinking into the soil to become the undergrowth that feeds fungi and small flowers, or to kick itself into hyper-drive, frolicking about like a newborn fawn feeling sun on its back during its' first Spring.
Yet all it seems my mind can really fathom is the craving for you, like an intense sense of fiending for nicotine crawling through my flesh.
An addiction I couldn't stop, even if I wanted to. Since I will never stop wanting you.
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 4:38 PM UTC
Oi
Look
Listen
You
Forgive my tone, I'm not trying to smart, rude or clever.
Gender shouldn't not be tender. Hopefully sooner or later it'll become like: Meh..Yeah whatever."
Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 12:15 PM UTC
What right have you
To tell someone they are not
Who they know they are.
You.
A person who seems so sure of themselves,
So comfortable.
Tells him,
Someone who questioned himself his whole life,
That he is not who he knows he is?
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 7:15 PM UTC
People tell me my love is wrong.
People tell me my love is sin.
People tell me my love will go to hell.
These people do not know what real love is.
When I am with her it's like I can clearly think for once.
When I am with her I can see the beauty and colors.
When I am with her I can see a future with happiness.
Then I kiss her and I know nothing will stop me.
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 11:29 PM UTC
Gender is a ****
Now bear with me, I don’t mean it in a bad way
I mean it as gender is elusive
Gender is tricky
Maybe with my words I should be more picky
But that’s not the point
The point is gender is something I cannot hope to begin to understand
Maybe gender is a universe
And within it we are all stars
Or maybe gender is an ocean
Not quite the Dead Sea where everything floats
And not quite everywhere else where everything sinks
But somewhere in between
And within it we are all jellyfish trying to string together a coherent stream of consciousness that somehow makes sense
And-see?
It’s getting away from me
I used to think gender was a binary
Male, female, ***** ******
Everything coincides so we all fit into this dichotomy
But that leaves no room for Alex who is sometimes Alex and other times Cassandra
Or Sasha who is somehow both at once
Or me who lays claim to no label, because all of them throw up a red light
There is one thing I do know as fact
Pronouns are not a privilege
They are a right
They, them, their:
Singular gender nonspecific pronouns
A customer came into the store today and bought twelve packs of gum
I didn't know what was on their mind, but
Maybe they wanted to kiss their lover full on the mouth while an orchestra of taste crescendoed around them
Caleb came into class today with two cupcakes
One for them and the other for their best friend who hadn’t shown up in two weeks
Claiming “She’ll be here today, don’t you worry”
And the rest of us lapsed into silence, knowing she was never coming back
She, her, hers
No longer will I suffer in silence as those I care most for
Call me something I am not
I am not your daughter, I am your child
I am not your sister, I am your sibling
I am not a girl
I am a nonbinary
I know it makes no sense
But if you just listen you might be able see
To escape the past tense
And start living in the future with me
No longer will we stay quiet
Duct tape over our mouths as we are locked behind closed doors
Buried beneath accusations of
Transtrender
Genderspecial
“You’re just pretending”
No longer will we stay silent
The wrong pronouns whipping our bodies into submission
It
Is not a pronoun
*******
Is not a compliment
You sit in the audience groaning
When will this queer shut up and go home
Isn’t it enough that we acknowledge your existence
But you don’t
I cannot count the times I have been misgendered
I cannot count the times I have wanted to speak up but didn’t
Knowing I would not be taken seriously
Now I will not be silent until there are no more stories of
Schoolyard oppression
Trans suicides caused by a “lesson”
I will scream myself hoarse until
Trans women can walk the streets in safety and
Bathroom means bathroom not
Execution
Remember this
As we are forgotten by our cis siblings
As we are told we don’t exist
As you, the cis in the front row
Realize
That your daughter at home
May not be your daughter
At all
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 8:50 PM UTC