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Jenna Jun 2021
The struggle, the pain
The fear inside,
Is breaking me, changing me, filling my head with lies,
But you don’t see it. You don’t see the flame, the fight, the tears in my eyes,
They tell me I’m wrong,
And I break down and cry,
But why?

Why don’t you see my thoughts, the worries, when I walk out the door,
To go out in public,
To this judge mental world,
As only a kid,
With these feelings and scorns,

But this is me, a human,
What happened to “equal?”
Just cause I’m different, doesn’t mean that I’m evil.
But Maybe it’s you,
Your the problem, the pain,
The reason I hide,
The voice in my head,
Telling me to disguise,

But why does it matter?
Respect is respect,
It doesn’t need a social latter,
So stop worrying about who I am,
And worry about who you are,
Because United we stand,
And stand, we will, forever.
Brianna Jun 2019
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.
Débijonne Sep 2018
but
how is it
condemnable when we
only choose to
LOVE?
Post-Pride Week blues.

— The End —