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Literature Text
Her lashes were crinkled feathers,
brushing up against her bruised skin;
violet and red speckles.
The scars on her body
were translucent lines
making patterns of
regret and bitterness.
Earthquakes were running
through her fingers.
brushing up against her bruised skin;
violet and red speckles.
The scars on her body
were translucent lines
making patterns of
regret and bitterness.
Earthquakes were running
through her fingers.
Juxtapositions Tier
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Literature
Pride
Glances wither, voices fade
Towers crumble, mirrors crack--
What's wrong with me?
This body that never
Was meant to be mine
This son who is always
Referred to as "daughter"--
What's wrong with me?
The bundle of sticks
That's a little too happy
The "I'm proud, I swear"
That's a little too sad--
What's wrong with me?
But there's this voice
This subconscious smile
That whispers what, maybe, I knew all along,
Says maybe,
Just maybe,
"You were born this way."
There's this thought,
This near silent whisper
That speaks from the cracks of the mirror that lied,
Says maybe,
Just maybe
"There's nothing to be ashamed of."
Th
Literature
Not Trans Enough
No, no I'm not alright.
I thought I was okay when I thought I got over them. I thought everything was fine when I thought I knew who I was, but then they come in and tell me who I am and who I'm supposed to be.
But low, I'm not even Trans* enough.
I'm not Trans* enough because I'm apprehensive about taking T.
I'm not Trans* enough because I'm not constantly ogling over girls.
I'm not Trans* enough because I like to wear dresses from time to time.
I'm not Trans* enough because I don't work out at the gym.
I'm not Trans* enough because I like to Sew and Bake.
I'm not Trans* enough because I didn't 'come out' when I was 3.
I'm not Trans
Literature
Short Ode to the Genderqueer.
I want to tell you I love you just for existing.
For fighting, for being, for simple resisting.
For hacking up our binary coding,
For explaining, exposing, expanding, exploding.
For loving unlabeled, living without fear.
For painting my heart in twelve shades of queer.
For making me feel a bit less like a freak,
For being so wonderful and unique.
For showing all things between pink and blue.
My genderqueer beauty, how much I love you.
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The last line was my attempt at trying to take the idea of her hands shaking and writing that in a creative way...I hope it worked. This poem is about domestic abuse. Can be to a child, but in my mind I was thinking more of a husband abusing his wife.
Theme: The Perfect Crime
Theme: The Perfect Crime
Comments13
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Oh, perfect. I adore this one, the imagery is just right, to show the pain, but in a way that doesn't detract from the message. The first stanza is absolutely gorgeous, and so well written! I love the last stanza as well. (: