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Trans* poetry

Discussion in 'Gender Identity and Expression' started by Gates, Apr 9, 2014.

  1. Gates

    Gates Guest

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    Location:
    Between paradise and nothingness
    Sexual Orientation:
    Straight
    Out Status:
    Out to everyone
    I thought a thread like this might be fun. I'll go first as encouragement but seriously, if you write, you should post!!

    The Shadows

    Why is it that no one sees me?
    As if I were a shadow, I glide by unrecognized, even by those most dear to me… Especially by those most dear to me, for I hide the chaos that tears at me.
    I feel sick, my own subversion sickens me.
    I’m not myself.
    In the mirror, I see a half-me, a pseudo-me, but like a shadow, my image is not the reality of things but a simplified and conceding version of reality.
    My reality is too much for me to face… no, the consequences of my reality are too much for me to face.
    Only my shadow can be free.
    No one is to blame. Life is what we make of it, and what we inherit.
    Our inheritance doesn’t favor me, that’s all. It’s not as If God wants me to suffer, no…
    So, what am I supposed to be learning? I don’t understand why it should be this difficult.
    It shouldn’t matter, that’s what I keep thinking.
    What am I to do?
    Will I live my life as a shadow? Is that really what I’m choosing?
     
  2. Manta

    Full Member

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    That's really good! One of my favorite songs is Reflection from the Disney movie Mulan. For poetry... hmm.

    Dorothy had a yellow path,
    And to each fairy tale a known end,
    But my story can't be fit by past
    Lore of feminine trial,
    Nor will knightly adventures
    Encapsulate all that I can be.

    I am lipstick and I am grilled steak,
    Barbie Dolls and foul-outer,
    A she who smiles when called a he.
    Do I contradict myself?
    Alright, then I contradict myself,
    I am large, I contain multitudes.

    I am the ocean swell sans the crest,
    The howl building in the wolf's chest,
    The dancer prepping to pirouette,
    Artist staring at unpainted set.
    I am the buffeting wind
    Whose course has not yet been run,
    The break in clouds nearly brimmed,
    I am the figure inside awaiting the sun.

    That was a lot more difficult than I thought! I wanted to write something positive.