gender dysphoria
Learn more about other poetry terms
They call me she, they call me her, they call me a name which i do not prefer.
They call me a girl, they call me "young lady" when in truth that is pure insanity.
My mother always said she liked that dress.
She said I looked pretty in pink.
I don’t really like pink,
Or dresses,
Or hair,
Or my smile,
I was told once
That hope was a thing with feathers.
So's Mine.
Great black plumes he has.
Wings that blot out the sun.
A beak curved like a sabre.
Talons meant for tearing.
My liver my heart.
Therein, residing in my mind, is a monster so evil, dark and unkind. Thoughts racing, telling me that I’m hideous. Yelling and screaming to rip off my face; because I look ridiculous.
Knees to chest, heavy breathing fills the stallTears dried, his imprinted cheek stings.The air feels thicker breathing in through a compressed chest, but it slowly starts feeling natural.
I need to shower but my skin is burningI need to have the firey hot water wash away my tears But I can’t seem to unclasp the only thing keeping me from ripping my own body apartI need to wash the lies of I’m fine out of my hair and the lies out of
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.
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.
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.
Sometimes I scare myself
When I get like
This when I see
Everything as clear and
Different. The World starts
How to drop your body offbehind a dumpster and transforminto a bird, eyes fluttering with eye shadowbeak puckered with lipstickFly into a club and look beautifulGo to the bathroom and transform
I go walking down the street in my local town, just like you.
I catch the same bus to go to work everyday, just like you.
I browse some shops and buy food to provide for myself, just like you.
rushing golden waters
fill my skin and change it to something new,
but it is what i have longed for all my life.
losing daughters
could just mean gaining sons who shine with the light of a thousand stars.
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,
My name is not my own,
the real me is hidden away.
This body is not my home
The real me cannot be shown.
Feeling out of place,
these bones creak and groan.