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I hate how glamorized being transgender is in the media. It’s not all sunshine, and rainbows, and butterflies. Well, it is rainbows, but that's not the point.
It’s all about the presentation. The way you present your poetry can make or break the poem. A poem written by a below-average 4 year old can sound beautiful coming out of your mouth.
Sometimes I’m fine. Sometimes I’m just a little tired. You know? I know you get what I mean.
As I stood Crying into my mahogany lined mirror Tracing the curves that curse meThe wood reminds me of soft spots where it is solidThe wood dark and musky, masculine in nature mocks my feminine bodyMy body’s looking wrongThe mirror distorts and po
It's just those kids that are a little bit off,  when a teacher calls their name and they struggle not to cough And ,,Girls on the right and boys on the left" is a terrifying statement
You are my demon. You chase after me, Trying to catch me, And swallow me. You try to slice me. You rip open my 
if we want to talk about being hard to love that definition begins with me anxiety  insecurity paranoia chewing me up, throwing me out
The fact that I have hands  Alarms me.  Large rounded fingertips turn into broad soft fingers which  blends into soft palm. 
Hope is a magical word, Happiness fluttering aghast in the wind Blowing fears and uncertainty behind me I see a world reborn Relentless to strife As if it has cut away my anxiety like a knife
her words, shatter my resolve like ice smashing my hope to bits and pieces she says I'm over reacting inventing things to finally make friends this isn't how it ends
Every little kid learns about butterflies, With their fluttering wings and their monumental transformation
There's a dragon Living inside of my ribcage It never sleeps, not even when I do
this is what depression feels like or something else. Anxiety? My head is spinning and is thinking about things other than this world,
I walk this road, this road towards my truth. My truth which I have fought long and hard To find and hold onto. Always searching for myself in this shell of a body. This shell isn't me, but I've come to love it.
You are the reminder of a life that i was never meant to exist in, the life of shattered mirrors and holes punched into walls.
sometimes i find i want to press myself in a book like a flower to flatten my spine so my shoulders can be higher   but if my body wasn’t fragile
I am the boy who wakes up every morning, Only to see the girl in the mirror mocking him.   Her round face. Her curves. Her breasts. All knives thrown at me, Trying to break my bones.  
  I want to find the words The words to explain explain how I feel as a kid today   You try to listen
Terrible. Tasteless. Taboo.   All are words to describe, What I long for.   It doesn't hurt me, It doesn't hurt you, So why does it matter?   Terrific.
Adjusting the disgusting bra on my chest, I flip ratty, old dress over my head. Glancing in the mirror, I feel so wrong.  
One year older, Another year lost. Another year waiting, I paid the cost.   One year of dysphoria, And hiding from the summer sun. One year of being ignored, Stuffed under the pink rug.
Dear Childhood, I wish I had gotten to know you better How long ago was it that I left? It was certainly early
My collorbones like handles poking through my skin The rungs of a ladder to pull me out and set me free And when I pull to climb out of this wretched body I feel instead myself crumble and fold within
there’s something creeping, creeping into my head. a thought, not a voice. but it still pricked deep, making me flinch with the first few words.
He’s just a token Of his family’s disappointment A silent reminder of what’s bad All the dark in this world He’s just a token
a boy is lying. he tells them he is a girl and they say he is.   a boy is sighing.
Disillusioned once again I thought I could sleep my emotions away Instead, I drifted into dreams deeper than tree roots Where my body and subconscious paralleled... Submerged in the depths of the earth
There's a pressure in my lower stomach, as sickness of aching and swelling, A wish for something, An errant whim against reality,  
I feel like my dreams have become so small.I used to dream big dreamsLike being president,A firefighter,An Austronaut,A baker.But now I’m so simple.All my dreams are T.
It’s the sound of rain. It’s the taste of metal. It’s the voice pressing on your temples chanting, “go home.” But you don’t. You never do.
He always looks as though he’s tasted something bitter, so much so that i wonder if the cigarette he lifts to his lips tastes sweet to him. He smiles at me like he’s holding back tears,
You call me Beauty, The mirror, Frankenstein's bride, Do not let me burn
“you are what you eat.” an english proverb - if you eat well, you will be well; but if you eat badly you will feel bad. i used to eat icing behind the couch, shovel it into my mouth like the dirt i played with outside. i’m seven and alive, and i...
Why couldn’t I just be born a wizard,
Smoke in my lungs, Raging monster coursing in crimson,
Purple orchid rolling fibres, coalescing in the first light of the day, against the hellish blazing eye,
one year on, one year on Two arrows
one year on, one year on Two arrows
I feel out of place with myself with my everything i don't  belong   i don't belong in this house i don't belong in this body i feel like someone took me From where I belong
While the world splits meAnd everythingIn twos,The only option that fits meI'm not allowed to choose.When I tuck up my hairIt's not to impress you.So don't tell me what I should wear.
Oh!  There it is,The blood of my Mothers’SinsBlossoming onMy white sheetsLike a bouquet of English roses.A shame -Laundry day hadBeen yesterday.  My thighs have been painted
I looked in the mirror today, only to see the androgynous face , of a broken Gothic stone angel gazing back at me,
These bandages covering my body, 
Dried rust covers the walls turned iron, covered in hydraulic spurts of super glued wounds,
Rainbeat By Lindt Schmitz You’re         standing          in           a    forest. You                have no                     voice, and            your
There is a disparity between my mind and my body, like wearing a suit two sizes too small and pressing out desperately but unable to flee.   Looking in the mirror, facing fears,
All of her life she had been trappedIn this body of a girl,And if she did not have cropped, messy hair,If she did not wear loose clothes,If she were not me,She would have been beautiful.
  Dysphoria Sucks   These feelings can suck my non-existent dick but shit That just makes the dysphonia worse doesn’t it?   My dysphoria peaks when my estrogen levels do
Free Baby beluga in the deep blue sea You swim so wild and you swim so free Heaven above and the sea below
although born a female, there was something that i knew i knew that i was different, thoughts that stuck like glue. i put on all the dresses, i did just what they said, but every night i cried, i fought hard inside my head.
Our two demons came, with different form, neither of us to blame that we couldn't conform. Yours was a bully, against his words I was a shield, defended you fully, until he did yield.
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