Junebugs

Divinely prosecuted to say nothing as fluently as possible ~~ overrated

[juniperbia]

First attempt at an intro!

Junie / Bugs / Junebug / Juniper / June / Juniper Berrie

Lover of all forms of art and human expression, poet by medium.

Feel free to send me poetry requests at any time!!! I have developed my own forms of poetry and exercises, and absolutely love a chance to help people feel seen.

Specific info about me below :))

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I am 22, autistic, obsessively compulsive, and transfeminine. I have been practicing prose for my entire life, but for the past ~5/6 years I have been studying and putting more time into my art.

I enjoy drawing, any word game, my dictionary is my best friend, and blues are the anchor of my soul and one true love.

I have a fixation on words and linguistics, but the notable favorites are humor (typically stand-up and stand-up related inside baseball) and deeply personal expression. If an art you love or an art you MADE?? can give me a glimpse into your soul like. yes please. yes please. yes please.

we are capable of great things and the tides of satire have washed over and destroyed our once beautiful nature !!!

[nociceptrix]

finding out you spent most of your life dissociated is a HUGE bummer

[juniperbia]

Finding out you have the rest of your life to lock in is sooo huge

[nociceptrix]

finding out you spent most of your life dissociated is a HUGE bummer

[diaryofsheets]

[juniperbia]

The only reason I am not bawling on my hands and knees is that I had a good day. Reading this makes me want to sob, and sob, and sob. When the future hands you new formative prose,, it is okay to cry. You just gotta start readin, next. <33

[diaryofsheets]

[hardcoreparkour]

Do you like nuance

YES

NO

Voting ended onAug 5

[phair-enough]

it dependsssssss

[juniperbia]

It's night. I'm in bed almost satisfied with my time spent, soon I surely will be. Soon to have my own space to stay, and sleep. I'll dream some drawings, I'll write new ways.

I don't think that I will have my domestication day.

Too much time spent among the birds and bugs and clay.

Too many conversations, with the greens and the grays.

Feral now, half witted, half sure of a demise,

I'd be a damsel if it weren't for the twigs

within my braids.

[juniperbia]

Imagine being a soul, able to draw breath on this Earth, and the thought; "That child SHOULD go hungry" crosses your brain.

Just. Ever.

Like a genuine, no humor, actual thought. You kill yourself immediately right? Like frame 2 you sprint towards headlights? I don't understand the modern world or the one before and I'll be damned if I understand the next one. But feed your kids, man. Come on.

[guerrillatech]

[juniperbia]

Looking for community,, are you by chance,,

Transfeminine?

Leftist to the tits?

Hypermobile? (Yoga/ Sun Tai Chi)

Into strategy assessment? (Chess, MMA)

Into mobility sports? (Ballet, Gymnastics, Base/Softball)

Into Poetry, Audiobooks, or Wikipedia?🤤

Into Activism as it relates to education, antifascism, or queer acceptance?

Or,, someone who would bum me a cigarette after an after-after party, let me cry towards you, let me paint your bedroom walls with hastily made dyes and spit laced gin, let me leave my lipstick on every 4" of mirror, and then never ever attempt to contact me again,

We should be friendly!

[juniperbia]

Have i stuck too firm to poetry? May a birdie impart some opinions? Would a jay be heard, or left to stir?

I have lived my entire life empathetic. I cry so easy at so very many things. Books, movies, shows and tunes. But I've spent 22 years hidden away, you see. I've watched and heard, and I learned to never care.

Struck by men who callously dared me to be. Shown bodies and blood and worse, this loving child with wilting belief. I preferred the song of doves,, the jays,, the ones I couldn't name but I knew the noise of.

Men forced me to know. Women forced me to act. The Juniper girl never got to sit. Never got to unwind or unlearn, block noise or sound. I asked how to sleep at Seven years old,, never to get that answer told to me.

A full, nice, complete sleep through night, still still STILL escapes me. My true to come blight. When I exhaust to sleep I will tremble and shake again. Awaken in fear to somewhere I've been. Still I sit here.

June sits ready to quake or to cry.

For I know that now I too am

June when I rise.

[juniperbia]

Lovesick. Yearning for a joyful grasp and hopeful touch.

My stomach twists as my skin lays bare. Soft

and willing, unclutched and desperate

for you. Your hands to be cracked, calloused,,

finally reaching for your favorite texture.

Finally across the feral river, you'd arrive

to my altar of stone.

You'd chance a hand, or lips, or

just say something, sure of it too.

My moons would eclipse,

my throat would be free.

Now, though, my arms lie alone.

I await in sickness my knight, a hero

with patience and dangerous for me.

[juniperbia]

Van, who had mostly in life been less

of a lover, more like a dangerous thunder-y

man - conversed with

Hilda, who had simply in strife kept her

passions in hand. A glass boned lass

of an immaculate kind.

Vanessa born when she sat, and she

all in sudden all but knew -

Hilda Todya told her true,

when she made those glass

bones cry.

<3

Music inspired freehand.

[juniperbia]

To rectify, and yes to keep quelled a calming mind,

I sing that June in the bones is a better

life than submitting to that August Wind.

To fall in life as I do best, tumbling forward but

keeping a beat and breath.

A beat to the trouble, and a voice that is

truly just and of June, and mine.

A poem told me once that I could not

see the ocean waves. At least all at once

in just one day. To be prepared is to know my

fear, to fight on my back and to handle

the jeers. The words I say

are a shame, it's true. Yet my only

regret remains, the pain of not

having known.

Not having known to love, or known to speak,

or that my voice still lies hid behind slanted

teeth. That my ankle did not heal like I

thought that it would. My neck has

been altered by years of still lakes.

But the water, before the ripple, must open

to a shake. To a drop of something new, a

watering from above.

Nightmares, and nightmares, and nightmares.

Nightmares, then nightmares, then nightmares.

Nightmares, next nightmare, then nightmares.

And the shame they bring is that I did not hear

my just and changing wind.

But I've said enough, I suppose.

I will learn to hold the violence until

my Violet slows me again.

[juniperbia]

Can you believe the things we see, when wisdom

comes from all the angles?

I fear sight, and I react to sound,, what

does this make of Miss Worry-Bound?

A sad little frail thing,, to eat is to endorse the pain,

to sing is to forget my singers, and my mother

must have lost my name.

A scared thing, clutching at others to find a thing of

hope. A tasteless fickle girl, who feels all

sorts of "Worse".

The throat caught, barbed'in'wire gal,

the lover yet to stick her name to any letter,,

Juniper, the voiceless, the meek and the graceful

June, the one who sings in tune with Earth,,

She sits as Junie too, sometimes. The pain

just has some worth.

Juniper Berrie - 8/06/26

[juniperbia]

Lethos I - Juniper Berrie

[juniperbia]

Juniper's I'st

I sit with thoughts I've held awhile, blocked

out by men who seldom seen to crack a

smile. To cajole or break

wit with a comfort to find,,

vile-like men with

animosity eyes.

Passing glances and distance at people

who quake. The wails of the quail-ers go

unanswered,, lest they be answered in

faith.

So doomed are the strangers who

harvest our face.

Rising above sits a woman, whose

palms know only grace.

A gluttonous man to take and to take,

A beautiful woman with her loops to break.

Heed me. Hallow be my name. Juniper calls

to birds so they may calm,, their quickening

chirps alone may match my way.

All to close, and closing the end of summer.

Better than 24, is a 23 year young go getter.

A kangaroo child, a spider monkey climber,

A rainbow rider, the oblivious mimer.

Forever yours, lying deaf, blind, and dumb

in wait:

Is a gray chirping titmouse, awaiting her fate.