#nonbinary poem

[memoires-blessees]

My words bear no weight - or at least not enough - and they're never shaped right when I talk to you. It's not your fault, but mine. I'd believed it was a myth, that those in love tripped, stumbled, and fell. But aren't I just my own perfect contradiction?

[ihasafandom]

rote a pome

Gender Neutral

She/her/they not a woman or a girl but a female dude guy person man as in "hey man" not man as in gent or boy a dropdown menu reading "gender" intentionally unopened not unchosen but deliberately left untouched neutral as a changeroom, as an outfit neutral as a car that can rev but go nowhere I am a boulder in a stream sheltering fish from the current a dragon hibernating on a hoard dark energy that cannot be seen but provides weight to the universe a true clear blue so strong and sharp you can taste it hot chocolate with an icy bite of mint even as it seeps languid warmth to the bone a still pool with unknown depths a headbutt not violent but filled with whiskered affection my gender is not neutral as beige, as grey; harmless and inoffensive my gender is as neutral as a sheathed sword; an assumption of peace that will be backed by arms do not test me, do not force me, do not presume to prescribe to me and I will remain as a calm harbour in a storm

[pineconesarecrunchy]

Having someone to love, the idea nice

and then your body feels like this is just right

and you know.

Time spent with them feels like home

and makes me happier knowing I’m not alone...

[memoires-blessees]

My body has dips, curves, and the occasional dash or lasting divinity given by my mother. My thighs and my stomach are those of Aphrodite and the women I love so much in this world. My eyes are the colour where the sky meets the sea, the horizon of the world, my face is the soft, sweet face of a doll a child would love. And I love these features on others, for they look so divine, a goddess trapped in mortal flesh. And slowly but surely I learn to love them on me. The mirror shows me what I am, the flesh I inhabit with my thoughts and my endless collection of words and it allows me to see the horizon I hold in my eyes.

[matteosden]

Poem That Doesn’t Even Rhyme

They say,  “Hey, you’re a girl, why don’t you act like one?”

And I think, “No, I’m a guy in disguise. Deal with it.” They laugh, “Stop wearing those baggy clothes, they  don’t suit you.”

And I respond, “No, not as long as I can hide my  girl-ish body underneath.”

Matteo, 28th March 2022

[zombified-queer]

umura jaɣákavaʔum - A  prose poem

Will they cry?

Will that person weep, as in the soul-wrenching screams torn from a throat in the dark as in the feeling of the world coming down as in bricks brought down on top of them as in being smothered by loneliness and a sorrow they never know how to process as in being terrified as in their heart racing rabbit-panic in their chest as in dying at two in the morning because they drowned in their own tears?

Will that person weep as in they have found something to call this thing they're feeling as in there's words for this as in there's a label as in there's a community as in they have found themself again as in they do not feel alone because they are armed with their words and their heart is lifted as in they are crying with joy as in everything can be processed as in they are alive and themself or verself or xyrself?