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N J Saroff Feb 2020
When asked who and what I am
It's hard to give a ****
I answer with
Half woman half man
But also
Neither boy but an apology
Neither girl but a memory
Maybe both, but that's called false ideology
Ask when it all began
Then stop me before I even can-

Not a daughter but somehow that bothers you
It's hard to walk in porcelain shoes
Every step can mean something someone will break
Stay in the binary that's your fate
Laugh when I say I'm in between
The words in between how the color gray can mean so much,
Because it's not an issue of black or white
How the love just might-

Falling for every human
Not a color like red or blue
Grow out of the phase maybe at the end it won't be true
Given a name to make one easily identifiable
Yet after, I found myself, not so easily identifiable
We thought I'd just settle for cis hetro-normative *** and gender
But instead I'm still caught in this hell ******
Return the parts I don't want to God, aka the original sender
Scientific labels based on unseeable factors
Play the gender roles, be a good actor

If it's a disease then please shoot me with the cure,
to fix what has always left me so unsure

My body both a home and cage
Bringing Such Joy and such rage
Curves so superb to the audience eyes
Yet come and cry when the scales numbers rise
Try to fold up small go unnoticeable, then
tear it to pieces become invisible

Wear a shirt that's too tight
Wear a pants that are just right
Wear a skirt or a dress
Become a failure or a mess
Wear a loose button up sudden success

Gender is career goals
Gender is being dull
Gender is falling apart,
picking yourself up to make the art
Gender is binary
Gender is not binary
Gender is clothes
But also
Gender is making yourself containable to those
who do not care about you
worm Feb 2020
tired so tired why can’t i just be a woman why can’t i just be comfortable with she why can’t i just be ok with “girl” why can’t i look at pictures with long hair and dresses and recognize a person why do i have to see my body  bare and uncovered and feel sick why can’t i say the words even to myself.

my identity is based around likeability and avoidance of change i can’t even say i am it’s all “i think” “i might” “maybe i’m” when i know ******* well that i am or at least what i sure am not
and the thought of requesting people to call me something different or even make a change known makes me want to hurl and i can never find the words or the courage so i must continue hearing even my closest friends go on using She and Girl and even the few who know even the only one who knows in person who has expressed full support and willingness to change who has loved me before and will not stop i am afraid to ask to use different words



am i so destined to suffer? will i face this fear and challenge for ever? will i ever be able to look at my chest and torso and not be filled with disgust and will i ever be able to loudly and proudly assert who i am? never have i been ashamed but will i ever allow myself to be Proud?
i was struggling with my gender a bit last night and wrote this.
Monisha Feb 2020
When I was just a little girl,
And as little girls were taught then,
I played with dolls and a teaset,
Made mudcakes for food,
Wore skirts, made my hair into ponytails as I was let.
I saw the boys with the abandon which comes with free wear and play,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.

When I was older, a teen
and as teen girls were taught then,
Walk, talk, rock softly
Don’t draw too much attention
Or attempt to explore too much.
I saw the boys then with the abandon which comes with freedom to play, sit, be as they want  ,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.

When I was sixteen, oh sweet sixteen,
And as sixteen year old girls were taught then,
Don’t wear clothes that show your frame,
That’s indecent and you will be in another home and will incur alot of blame.
Don’t wander, argue, or express an opinion,
You’re a girl, being humble, quiet and gentle becomes you.
I saw the boys then with the abandon which comes with freedom of movement and speech,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.

When I was older, and passionately sought a particular career,
I was admonished as many other girls in my time,
It’s not a career for women, late nights, more men to be around,
When you get married, that’s not going to work and troubles will abound.
I saw the boys then with the abandon which comes with the  freedom of pursuing their dreams,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.

When I was married, and setting a home, working  and raising a family,
I left my work as many other girls in my time,
For my husband to follow his work path,
Unquestioningly, unflinchingly, resolutely.
I saw the men then with the abandon which comes with freedom of being in control of their lives,
And I thought to myself, why am I a girl.

But this is just the surface of my questioning being a girl,
When boys and men around tried their stunts on girls and women,
I questioned my existence.
When many girls and women I know,
Were told to stay mum on men close who took advantage of them
I questioned my existence.
When In the workspace,
Women got paid less than men because their salary were subtly looked at as secondary salaries,
Or needed to speak louder to be heard,
I questioned my existence.
When the onus of keeping a relationship working  was the woman’s responsibility largely,
I questioned my existence.
When a woman got hit by her spouse,
Its she who may have provoked him.
When a man strayed,
Its she who was not a good enough wife that he had to look elsewhere.
I questioned my existence.

The atrocities many men are capable of,
The filth many men spread,
****, hate, aggression, manipulation and more
Abuse, gaslighting inside closed doors,
Wearing a mask of sophistication outside
Animalistic and entitled beings to the core.

My apologies to men who are not,
And I know some,
But they are but a handful,
Too insignificant in the larger way the world works.

But then I see me,
A harbinger of change,
In my home and around.
Raising my son differently,
Advocating for change purposively,
Actioning resolutely what’s right,
Woman for women with all my might.
I see so many more women now who retain their selves and are beacons of hope,
They don’t sit around and just mope.

And I am glad I am a girl,
And I question no more,
I question no more.
ConnectHook Aug 2020
I am for your personal freedom
To SIN and to REBEL
In any way you please.

I am for your God-given RIGHT
To be as confused as you can be
About basic biology.

You have LIBERTY
To deny your own gender . . .
But I will not celebrate you.

And when you wake up,
If it should be granted to you,
Repent and turn to CHRIST.
Once there was a society so insane it refused to acknowledge what it had between its own legs.
Orchid T Aspen Jan 2020
not pet.

in window i sneak,
i see me alarmed
in glass, i ponder
the swish-locks they arm

not people!
inside,
not them, like me,
not scattered outside

no food for them waiting,
no fence for them pacing,
no kind of invading,
how come? how go?

see pet.

where found, i climb
in flurry, i bound
but they can't have
me,

not pet.
Written from a sad place.
will Jan 2020
whether I try to identify as
a girl or a boy in any way
the only thing consistent
for me to identify with
seems to be lonely
I cut my hair all off it was really fun! Also though people be thinking I'm trans, not a bad thing, but I'm not. Gender is wack and I don't care about it really.
Max Neumann Dec 2019
You
are




very











special
Regardless of your skin color, gender, age, money, ****** identity, religion, atheism, cultural and historical background.



You are special. Because you are loved.
God or whatever we might call this unique power loves everybody.
EVERY-BODY.
God is good.

Today is a good day.

YOUTUBE: SAMI YUSUF – FORGOTTEN PROMISES
Orchid T Aspen Dec 2019
They stand
like I almost did,
look like I almost do,
and speak like I almost have.
'=================='

But they walk from me,
leaving me ugly and bared by my ill name,
without any purchase in the words I have left,
'============================='

and they return to those
who waited for them
to just come back.
'==========='

They become
hurting and healing
in one fluid stroke,
forgetting about
the edge they have always
walked along.
'========'

They are ready to stand next to them
instead of me,
in my stead,
by my heart,
'======='

so I turn back to the mirror
and refuse to let
someone who
doesn't want
to be real again
walk away from me.
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