BirdofPrey

United States

Bookworm
Poet
Bi
Homophobes stay out plz!
Griffyndor
Athena cabin
Aries
Proud weirdo
She/Them
HUGE Rick Riordan fan
especially Heroes of Olympus and Lightning Thief
Aspiring attorney and falcon trainer
plz follow
and send me waffles ;)

Message from Writer

Hii im back!!! Have a great day and go say hi to my friends & lunch buddies mirkat (em) and sci-Fi!!! Irl friends with high horizons!!!

Published Work

Single Greatest Challenge

get up

get up
rise from the flames,
from the ashes of pain and of shame,
of humiliation
and dehumanization
because sometimes
what we see
isn't always what it seems
to be
get up
run through the pain
and maybe
it will go away
because today
what onlookers
will perceive
is not what we believe
get up
if you cover your ears
the shouting will fade
away
and yesterday's problems
become rocks in our path of
waste and decay
get up
they say that taking the hard path
over the easy one
will reap rewards 
yet we have none
how long
will we have to go on?
get up
because there is more for you to face
dress up nice in lace
tie yourself up in blood-stained silk
so nobody notices your pain
get up
don't be shy
keep your head up
remember to smile
one slip and it's on to the next person in line
and all you can do 
is ...

Single Greatest Challenge

get up

get up
rise from the flames,
from the ashes of pain and of shame,
of humiliation
and dehumanization
because sometimes
what we see
isn't always what it seems
to be
get up
run through the pain
and maybe
it will go away
because today
what onlookers
will perceive
is not what we believe
get up
if you cover your ears
the shouting will fade
away
and yesterday's problems
become rocks in our path of
waste and decay
get up
they say that taking the hard path
over the easy one
will reap rewards 
yet we have none
how long
will we have to go on?
get up
because there is more for you to face
dress up nice in lace
tie yourself up in blood-stained silk
because nobody wants to listen to someone who hasn't suffered
you just can't tell them you have suffered
they will decide that for themselves
get up
don't be shy
keep your head up
remember...

pheonix

a phoenix girl
rising from the ashes of death
burning plumage floats away to reveal shiny new feathers
if i am a phoenix
why can't i just melt with the fire?
i keep coming back for more and more and my mind keeps slipping on the ashes
further and further
a phoenix girl
rising from the ashes of death
burning plumage floats away to reveal shiny new feathers
what if the phoenix
doesn't want to come back
rising from the ashes of death
burning plumage floats away to reveal shiny new feathers
rising
rising
rising
mind screaming
head burning like the fire on the outside
because the fire on the inside is long distinguished 
phoenix girl
rising from the ashes of death
burning plumage floats away to reveal shiny new feathers
phoenix girl
flying away on glimmering feathers
and with waterfall eyes
 

do you see her?

she made the mask herself
hand painted it
with tears of gold
and cold, red blood
molded it with the skin of someone
who doesn't have constant anxiety attacks, that doesn't
feel like she is hanging on by a thread that just keeps stretching
shoved it in the kiln 
the first few were too thin
and exploded inside the flaming stone box
the next was too thick, and didn't set
the last was perfect
a beautiful mask she would never be
woven with silken heartstrings
and painted with blood carved from her chest
she put on the mask
heaved a sigh of relief and a moan of pain
for every second the mask is on, her real self
burns away
acid flames melting through bone
until nothing is left 
but a skeleton of a smile
forced into a toothy, unnatural grin
for all eternity
it is the only part of her you will ever see
do you see her?

ripping at the seams

we are ripping at the seams
and our world isn't what it seems
to be
we were bought at the thrift store
the rack in the back
that nobody sees
dust covers us
cobwebs shape us
the world threatens to break us
as we hold it all up
as Atlas was punished to bear the the weight of the world
of his brother's mistakes
we are punished for existing
forced to hold our predecessors problems that they created
that they didn't want
the balloon they left deflated
it is growing with every one person
that is born, forced to lift up the edge
a tarp with no end
to pick up the leaves they left us with
they left their baggage at the airport and we claimed it
the package they sent us is no gift
we are children
fighting for a world that won't listen to us
a world that deems us "too young"
then sends us out onto...

Dear anxiety

Dear anxiety, 
    I hate you. I really do. You have filled my life with uncertainty and terror ever since I was four. I have a hard time even remembering a time without you. I wish you would go away, but is that to much to hope for? You have been my constant companion, my almost-friend when I self isolate so nobody sees inside my head. You comfort me and terrify me all at once and you come back for more of me each time. Why must you plague me so?
    I especially don't like it when you have your friend, ocd, over. You always invite him in without permission, and it needs to stop. He brings out the worst in you, in us. He always leaves notes for me to see, like the one time he had me stuck doing a ritual over and over and over for five minutes so my family wouldn't die. He never cleans...

me and my ocd

me: *making waffles*
ocd: touch the waffle maker!
me: what no its really hot right now im literally cooking in it
ocd: touch it now or your family dies
me: haha yeah right *getting nervous*
anxiety: youd better listen to him, hes always right
me: but..
me: touches it quickly
me: ow!
ocd: okay, again with the other hand
me: what no i already did it it hurt!
ocd & anxiety: even it out, even it out
anxiety: ok fine if you dont the waffles become poisoned, your family eats them, they die, and its your fault
me: fine *evens it out all the way, takes several minutes to do*
me: ow! *puts my hands under lukewarm water*
me: phew theres no burns
 

"not all men" again

Today I was doing a project for my social studies class. This project was about the reliability of photos taken from the civil  war. Here is an excerpt from my conclusion: 
In coming across and studying this information, photos from the civil war can not be considered fully accurate or completely historically correct. Many photographers have used different methods to make their photographs more exiting, so we can’t trust all of the photos to be correct because it is to great of a risk to take that would change our history forever.
Historians who have multiple collage degrees and much knowledge do not trust all of the civil war photos because some of them were staged, enhanced with props/dead bodies that were moved, and lied about. Since they were taken so long ago, they have no way of knowing that they are reliable or not. Knowing this, they do not use these photos as historical references to study the war...

ughhh

They did it again and I am so mad. Literally fuming. They made a GAY COUPLE the villains of a movie. DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TEACHING PEOPLE???

this land is your land (edit)

this land is your land
but is it my land
you fight for your rights
but i am stranded
you ignore my calls
my pleas for justice
and i wonder
was this land truly made for me
we march with our family
we wave our pride flags
but in twelve countries
we would be stoned to death
its not a choice
it never has been
this land is a sliver of what it's meant to be
i'd love to walk through
that big old highway 
but apparently to do so
you need to make it to the skyway
and i've been told
that's not where i'm going
is there a land that's made for me
you pat yourself on the back
cause the world's come "so far"
but for those who aren't you
our life is a wildfire
you say you're accepting
but we have way to far to go
we haven't even started, don't you see
this land is...

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition: 2021

childhood

i. a musty, fading carpet becomes a vast ocean
in one moment it is calm and undisturbed
and the next it is rearing and bucking like a frightened horse
winds screeching your name as you are thrown into a briny tempest
so unforgiving that the bravest sailors tremble at its name
and a torn-up cardboard box
the sides a scribbled masterpiece
becomes your constant and only companion among the harsh waves
bottles float upon the waves of wool and dust balls

ii. distinguishing sleep from wake is hard, so your dreams become your unquestioned
reality
an intricate, frenzied dance of half-awake thoughts
that flit away on cotton-candy wings as soon as they reach your mind

iii. when the stars do not seem so far away
after all
you can reach up
let them stain your pudgy hands with light
when you pull away
there is stardust plastered on your skin
but nothing outshines
the the innocent stardust glow
within

"not all men"

not all men
but i carry my keys like a weapon
not all men
but i get stares though im not even developed
not all men
but almost all women
if there is a jar of cookies and two are poison and will kill you, you wont eat any
its not all cookies, though
if theres a shark in the water, you get out. it doesnt matter if it could be a nice one, you arent taking your chances, you get out of the water.
not all sharks will attack, though
not all men
but its too many women
 

long enough

we have been called mentally ill for long enough
we have been kicked out of the house for long enough
we have been refused medical care for long enough
we have been told how far the world has come in accepting us,
when the world is nowhere near where it should be
we have been outlawed for long enough
our flags have been burned for long enough
we have been abused for long enough
we have been put behind bars and dehumanized and killed for
LONG ENOUGH
we have lost enough, and yet we still keep losing
giving to a world that never gives back,
our accomplishments benefit something that doesn't have the kindness to benefit us,
and we try and try but nobody hears our calls for our rights, for human rights
we stand together, no matter how far apart
yelling behind our masks that we have suffered for long enough
and the world is changing, but too slowly ...

The colors of the rainbow

The colors of the rainbow:

i. red, blood red
stains the world
it does not let go
our blood does not run rainbow
just red, red, red
it covers many stones

ii. orange, rust orange
just as rust grows when the hinges are tired of holding up the door
we are tired of holding up on our own
the weight of many doors presses upon us

iii. yellow, urine yellow
the color when we have heart attacks
and lose control of our bladders
yet we are forced away from medical care

iv. green, puke green
people throw up when they are sick
emptying their stomachs of disease and germs
sometimes, more often than not,
we are perceived to be sick

v. blue, ocean blue
the kind of ocean
that sparkles in the sun
also, the kind of ocean
we are thrown into from cliffs

vi. purple, flower petal purple
the flowers that people get on a coffin
not in twelve...

this land is your land (edit)

this land is your land
but is it my land
you fight for your rights
but i am stranded
you ignore my calls
my pleas for justice
was this land truly made for me
we march with our family
we wave our pride flags
but in twelve countries
we would be stoned to death
its not a choice
it never has been
this land is a sliver of what its meant to be
this land was made for you not me

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition: 2021

childhood

i. a musty, fading carpet becomes a vast ocean
so unforgiving that the bravest sailors tremble at its name
and a torn-up cardboard box, the sides a scribbled masterpiece
becomes your constant and only companion among the harsh waves
bottles float among the waves of wool and dust balls
ii. distinguishing sleep from wake is hard, so your dreams become your unquestioned
reality
an intricate, frenzied dance of half-awake thoughts
that flit away on cotton-candy wings as soon as they reach your mind
iii. when the stars do not seem so far away, after all
you can reach up, let them stain your pudgy hands with light
when you pull away, there is stardust plastered on your skin
but nothing outshines
the the innocent stardust glow
within

why are we silent

a black six year old, arrested for picking a flower
why are we silent
the sun burns through glaciers
why are we silent
sweatshop laborers die by the thousands
why are we silent
multiple girls are harassed every day
why are we silent
asian hate
why are we silent
homo/transphobia
why are we silent
black lives matter
why are we silent
billions of covid cases
why are we silent
one year old asian and family slashed in the face
why are we silent
nine year old muslim girl held down and pepper sprayed by police
why are we silent
the french government oppresses those who wear hijabs and does not allow them to practice much of their religion
why are we silent
i will not sit by and watch
this is my warning
i will not be silent
 

why are we silent

a black six year old, arrested for picking a flower
why are we silent
the sun burns through glaciers
why are we silent
sweatshop laborers die by the thousands
why are we silent
multiple girls are harassed every day
why are we silent
asian hate
why are we silent
homo/transphobia
why are we silent
black lives matter
why are we silent
billions of covid cases
why are we silent
one year old asian and family slashed in the face
why are we silent
nine year old muslim girl held down and pepper sprayed
why are we silent
the french government oppresses those who wear hijabs and does not allow them to practice much of their religion
why are we silent
i will not sit by and watch
this is my warning
i will not be silent
 

no words

crumpled paper, the edges long gone
mind sloshing over with ideas but none of them coherent
none of them words to be understood
most time i am locked within my mind and the silver slivers of thoughts splatter on the page like spilled ink
but the rest of me stays inside because i cant get it out i cant put it in words
i dont have the key for the cage i have made for myself
and every time i try nothing comes out i cant picture my own thoughts, cant write them down because i cant catch them,
and it should be easy, easy to catch something that is behind bars but is it my thoughts or me behind bars i dont know anymore and i cant see i cant find the words to express it because there are none no words no words no words and im searching and searching but there are still no words no words...

dear god (prompt by beth r)

hi god,
um
idk what to write
are you even there?
i think i like the greeks/romans better

hi olympians,
(sorry i dont have the correct sacrifice for the muses, dont kill me please)
anyway, i think this sounds better. you guys are more human, although the idea terrifies you. our puny meat sacks that slump around all day were created by the titan prometheus, but you find it so appalling that you have human personalities. at least with you i can believe in you easier because it makes sense why you never have made it clear that you are there as others claim you have for them. it is easier to believe in you because you have human qualities. anyway, i dont know why im writing this, but i really need something to believe in right now. really badly. soo umm. hi i guess

no words

crumpled paper, the edges long gone
mind sloshing over with ideas but none of them coherent
none of them words to be understood
most time i am locked within my mind and the silver slivers of thoughts splatter on the page like spilled ink
but the rest of me stays inside because i cant get it out i cant put it in words
i dont have the key for the cage i have made for myself
and every time i try nothing comes out i cant picture my own thoughts, cant write them down because i cant catch them,
and it should be easy, easy to catch something that is behind bars but is it my thoughts or me behind bars i dont know anymore and i cant see i cant find the words to express it because there are none no words no words no words and im searching and searching but there are still no words no words...

no words

crumpled paper, the edges long gone
mind sloshing over with ideas but none of them coherent
none of them words to be understood
most time i am locked within my mind and the silver slivers of thoughts splatter on the page like spilled ink
but the rest of me stays inside because i cant get it out i cant put it in words
i dont have the key for the cage i have made for myself
and every time i try nothing comes out i cant picture my own thoughts, cant write them down because i cant catch them,
and it should be easy, easy to catch something that is behind bars but is it my thoughts or me behind bars i dont know anymore and i cant see i cant find the words to express it because there are none no words no words no words and im searching and searching but there are still no words no words...

no words

crumpled paper, the edges long gone
mind sloshing over with ideas but none of them coherent
none of them words to be understood
most time i am locked within my mind and the silver slivers of thoughts splatter on the page like spilled ink
but the rest of me stays inside because i cant get it out i cant put it in words
i dont have the key for the cage i have made for myself
and every time i try nothing comes out i cant picture my own thoughts, cant write them down because i cant catch them,
and it should be easy, easy to catch something that is behind bars but is it my thoughts or me behind bars i dont know anymore and i cant see i cant find the words to express it because there are none no words no words no words and im searching and searching but there are still no words no words...

no words

crumpled paper, the edges long gone
mind sloshing over with ideas but none of them coherent
none of them words to be understood
most time i am locked within my mind and the silver slivers of thoughts splatter on the page like spilled ink
but the rest of me stays inside because i cant get it out i cant put it in words
i dont have the key for the cage i have made for myself
and every time i try nothing comes out i cant picture my own thoughts, cant write them down because i cant catch them,
and it should be easy, easy to catch something that is behind bars but is it my thoughts or me behind bars i dont know anymore and i cant see i cant find the words to express it because there are none no words no words no words and im searching and searching but there are still no words no words...

Mid-March Grab Bag

the color of summer

i. lemonade stand yellow
that just barely caught my 6-year old eyes
the sign on the chipping blue-painted porch
holding my mom's hand
slipping the other into my pocket
searching the ground for treasures
and sipping the lukewarm
watered down
lemonade that seemed
 so magical to me

ii. dusty garage sale brown
so off-tone that it borders on grey
the neon poster on the telephone pole
buying little things
with the two dollars that i thought
was a million

iii. beach towel pink
drawing with chalk on the driveway
dragging the towels down to the drawing
so i could pretend i was on a beach
making smoothies in the kitchen
and bringing them out with
a peanut butter and jelly sandwich
feeling so proud that my mom had finally
let my tiny hands work the blender

iv. cracked-sidewalk tan
greyish-tan sidewalk
cracked in all the wrong places
learning to rollerblade
with a rake for balance
digging in the dirt between...

childhood with ocd and anxiety

You don't really ever notice something is wrong, because it starts so early you don't even remember a time without it. You get so used to repeating "I'm fine" that you almost start to believe it. You convince yourself that it's something everyone goes through, something everyone does. You start to believe it, almost. You keep feeding the gaping maw of your ocd and anxiety until it gets so big that it swallows you whole. It consumes you, becomes you. You can't see through that darkness, but that's okay. Your eyes will adjust, which is maybe the most saddening part. You don't tell anyone, because nobody can hear you through the walls of your mind. You notice that they keep closing tighter and tighter, not realizing that you are the one pushing them in. You twist and shrink to fit the miniscule space your mind has provided. Trapped within yourself, you are never without your constant companions, ocd and anxiety,...

Mid-March Grab Bag

the color of summer

i. lemonade stand yellow
that just barely caught my 6-year old eyes
the sign on the chipping blue-painted porch
holding my mom's hand
slipping the other into my pocket
searching the ground for treasures
and sipping the lukewarm
watered down
lemonade that seemed
 so magical to me

ii. dusty garage sale brown
so off-tone that it borders on grey
the neon poster on the telephone pole
buying little things
with the two dollars that i thought
was a million

iii. beach towel pink
drawing with chalk on the driveway
dragging the towels down to the drawing
so i could pretend i was on a beach
making smoothies in the kitchen
and bringing them out with
a peanut butter and jelly sandwich
feeling so proud that my mom had finally
let my tiny hands work the blender

iv. cracked-sidewalk tan
greyish-tan sidewalk
cracked in all the wrong places
learning to rollerblade
with a rake for balance
digging in the dirt between...

Year by Year

timeline-ish thing

4- as early as i can remember. yellow lollipop clutched tightly in my hands slips away and becomes a pine needle ball. down, down, down.
5- my compulsions start to take hold and they won't let go, i try to shake them but they are stickier than the lollipop was.
6- anxiety has reached its slimy fingers towards me, and it does not want to relinquish its prey.
7- i pretend there is nothing wrong, and i almost don't realize anything abnormal is happening. i have lived with this for as long as i could possibly remember.
8- i start to notice my differences, wondering what is wrong with me. am i going crazy?
9- i am slowly breaking, there is no way to fix me, no going back.
10- i am almost broken, unconsciously delving deeper into ADHD and OCD and anxiety as it consumes me,
becomes me. 
11- i find solace in books, i find validity between the...

explanations please

can someone please explain why talking about woman's rights get me stares and head shakes? the white straight boys in the class look ahead of them like they are bored and ignore the tremble in my voice as i continuously bring up my and other's struggle for rights. please explain to me why people say we have come so far in inclusiveness and equality when we aren't even halfway to where we should be. i need an explanation for the fact that only one white male spoke out about woman's rights in class today (an actual issue, not just that we are treated unfairly) and why that number still remains one. please explain to me why i feel nervous, beyond nervous, to do a downward dog stretch in track practice with a boy behind me, and why i heard a laugh when i did. tell me, tell me why i can't walk alone with a guy across the street from...

Autumn (song)

i was four when autumn began
at a fourth of july parade 
yellow lollipop in hand
and when i got back to my house
the first leaves started to fall

now i'm six and look at me (horrible line I know)
i'm much better at hiding my insecurities
slowly going mad as the leaves cover me up

(chorus)
i'm 
i'm fine
i'm doing alright
i'll be okay
(x2)

that's what i tell them anyway

i'm eight now and i'm looking down
from my bedroom window
to the leaves on the ground
and i wonder
why no one else can see them

i've tried and tried
every which way
but the leaves are too heavy to push away
they pull me in and now i'm
falling down
down (x2)

(chorus)
i'm 
i'm fine
i'm doing alright
i'll be okay
(x2)

that's what i'll tell you anyway

i'm already ten and i'm about to break
wishing that double digits will finally 
blow...

Autumn (song)

i was four when autumn began
at a fourth of july parade 
yellow lollipop in hand
and when i got back to my house
the first leaves started to fall

now i'm six and look at me (horrible line I know)
i'm much better at hiding my insecurities
slowly going mad as the leaves cover me up

(chorus)
i'm 
i'm fine
i'm doing alright
i'll be okay
(x2)

that's what i tell them anyway

i'm eight now and i'm looking down
from my bedroom window
to the leaves on the ground
and i wonder
why no one else can see them

i've tried and tried
every which way
but the leaves are too heavy to push away
they pull me in and now i'm
falling down
down (x2)

(chorus)
i'm 
i'm fine
i'm doing alright
i'll be okay
(x2)

that's what i'll tell you anyway

i'm already ten and i'm about to break
wishing that double digits will finally 
blow...

my poor attempt at a fable (Black Lives Matter!!!)

The raven's shrill screech echoed through the air. 
"Why can I not fly as high as the dove", it inquired. The doves shook their magnificent heads and their feathers quivered with laughter.
"Fly with us?" they giggled. "It is not allowed, and never will be". And they flew away. The raven looked down at the trees below and flew away, down, down, down.
The raven's caw bounced through the cloudy sky. 
"Why can I not have brilliant snowy plumage like the doves?" It asked. The doves looked at their shining feathers and said
"Because you can never be as beautiful as us, and you never will be." And they flew away. The raven looked down at its feathers and at once forgot how perfect they were. Its happiness went down, down, down.
The raven felt so discouraged that he sought out the wise old eagle. (Cliché I know) 
"Why can I not fly high and have beautiful feathers like the...

town

tourists used to swarm to my town
just a little pocket of calm
like we are the quiet part of the beach
before the wave that is Philadelphia slams into the shore
they would stay in the inn
or rent a house
or drive up for the day
to go to to the farmer's market
or the art fair
now it is just us
and how many times i have dreamed of it
being just us locals
is hard to tell
but not like this
never like this
the few tourists that come are masked
blowing fog onto their glasses
from under the suffocation of the cloth
we walk the streets alone
and when the shops have finally opened
we cant go inside
we are all inside

mental health update :/

so i started therapy for my ocd and anxiety the other day. i honestly had no idea how bad it was. its kind of like shoving everything in your closet when your mom says to clean your room, but instead of just when you clean your room, its every. single. day. every second of your life, plagued by worry and sadness and terror, and all you do is shove it in the closet, thought after thought after thought, carefully locked up. i used to think i was going insane. 
my therapist told me to try to turn my negative thoughts into positive thoughts. doesnt she know that if i dont think the negative thoughts, something bad will happen? doesnt she know that trying to make the bad thoughts good ones makes it worse, makes it harder to breathe? she said it would be hard and it is, im losing more and more sleep, more than usual. i try to think...

valid?

i cant seem to prove
my validity to myself
for some reason

they like me until

they like me
until i won't wear makeup
they like me
until i like another girl
they like me 
when my mouth is shut
they like me when i dont complain
they like me 
if they can stare
they like me
if i share
or pretend to share
their veiws
they like me
until i tell them to see reason
they like me
unless im not perfect
they like me 
when i am molded for them
shaped for them
made for them
to fit me in a tiny box
they dont like me
when they hear my voice
they like me
until i change my pronouns
they like me
until i stand up
for human rights
they like me 
until i open my mouth
they like me
until they read my words
they liked me
but i dont need them
after reading all these things about me
do you still like me?

 

Op-Ed Competition 2021

Sweatshops

   Picture this. You are living in China, and you are very poor. Your only option to pull yourself out of poverty is to work in a sweatshop. A sweatshop is a building where people work all day in an extremely unkempt building for little or no pay. You are told that you will work hours into the night, starting before sunrise. You will not complain, you will not be late or leave early, you will put in as many hours as required, and you will make whatever they tell you to, even if you are working with dangerous machines or toxic chemicals. If you try to escape, you will be beaten, tortured, or arrested. If you do not follow the rules you will work more hours, produce more items, or get fired. Do not continue to ignore the cries of the workers. You can help. 
  
      People who work in sweatshops are forced through unimaginable work in the worst possible...

Op-Ed Competition 2021

Sweatshops

   Picture this. You are living in China, and you are very poor. Your only option to pull yourself out of poverty is to work in a sweatshop. A sweatshop is a building where people work all day in an extremely unkempt building for little or no pay. You are told that you will work hours into the night, starting before sunrise. You will not complain, you will not be late or leave early, you will put in as many hours as required, and you will make whatever they tell you to, even if you are working with dangerous machines or toxic chemicals. If you try to escape, you will be beaten, tortured, or arrested. If you do not follow the rules you will work more hours, produce more items, or get fired. Do not continue to ignore the cries of the workers. You can help. 
  
      People who work in sweatshops are forced through unimaginable work in the worst possible...

lollipop

sickeningly sweet smell of the yellow lollipop
at the 4th of july fair
bubbles, just out of reach
dancing in the air

slowly dying my tongue 
the color of smiles
and eggs
the good ones, with cheese
growing up around innocence
mental diseases, who?

lick after lick, the lollipop fades
i begin to make rules for myself,
anything to keep my family safe

drop after sugary drop
falling to the ground
the walls are closing in, 
my four year old self does not
like
the
dark

a man on a horse trots by
i jump up 
and my lollipop
drops
i am scared

the walls are still coming
closer
closer
closer
closer

more rules
don't stop
stop
i can't

breathe
dont
breath
hold your breath
six years pass
i finally can sleep 
with my face 
out of the covers
i'm not ok
am i crazy?
the walls disappear
i am alone
in an endless abyss
i call out
nobody is...

more titles

there is an issue we need to address
this super-straight nonsense is making a mess
of all that we've worked for
all that we've made
is being torn down
by this "super-straight" grenade
being super straight
is not a sexuality
you have no place
in the lgbtq community
you hide among us
pretending to be like us
"coming out" isn't hard
when you really don't understand us
you say we oppress you
do you get killed for being straight?
are you illegal in seventy states?
if we say its transphobic
shut up and listen
you choose to ignore what we've been through
so I ignore your "preference"
you hide your obvious transphobia
behind our hopes and dreams
and by tearing down our community
you tear down both you and me
once you are killed
and mugged 
and arrested
hanged
and shot
and beaten
then you can have a flag
then you can stay with us
but that will never happen ...

March Grab Bag

titletitletitle

B broken
I  irked
R random
D dog lover
O over this "super-straight" nonsense
F friendly (to friendly people)
P pretty annoying
R really annoying, if I think about it
E extremely annoyed at the bigots of the world rn
Y yeah idk what to write for this one

i get kinda annoyed on these topics

today i remembered one day that one of my friends asked my friend group what their OCD was. those were her exact words. "what is your guy's OCD?" she said OCD in quotation marks, like it wasnt real. i wanted so badly to respond with OH NOTHING, JUST LOOSING TWO OR MORE HOURS OF SLEEP AND DOING LITTLE "RITUALS" SO MY FAMILY DOESNT DIE IN PAIN AND HAVING TO DO A CERTAIN THING SO SOMETHING BAD DOESNT HAPPEN TO YOU GUYS.OCD IS A REAL THING NOT A JOKE. but no, i just kept quiet. something else im a bit sensitive about is "super-straightness". just no. i can understand if you are straight and dont want to date a specific trans/fluid/nonbinary person because theyre mean or you just arent attracted to them or for non binary people or fluid people because your not bi/gay because our gender does change or we dont identify for either so that makes sense (im gederfluid...

happiness is a luxury

happiness is a luxury
something found
an extra
something I
can't seem 
to grasp
happiness is for those who deserve it
only those who deserve it can keep
that feeling where you
are floating on clouds
I grasp at straws
but I've not found
that feeling

 

things not to ask a non binary/fluid(me!)/trans person

what is between your legs? none of you business.
what is your original/dead name? its dead, which is why you dont ask
is this a phase? no
what are you? ...actually i have no idea
pray this sin will be lifted from you! *strangled noises and carefully controlled breaths* yeah no thanks
i dont want you getting ideas... you know what i mean? its for your own good. inwardly screams
 

pretend

i like to pretend
sometimes
that the world
was different
more accepting
unfortunately
that is something
ill only ever
be able 
to pretend

a tiktok made me cry yesterday

yesterday i watched a tiktok that made me cry, and i think you should all know why. (hey that rhymed) i watched a clip of joe biden standing in front of the pride flag, speaking about the correction he made to the equity law. you see, before, i could be refused a job, health care, and much more just because i am bi and genderfluid. now, none of those things can be lawfully refused to me. our amazingly equitable president (the first one we've had in four years), spoke about repairing relationships and being accepting, and it really felt so amazing to feel so accepted, even by someone i dont know. i started crying as i listened to him, and for a short minute, it really felt like the whole world could change. it felt almost powerful, knowing that our president is changing things i never imagined would change. i am who i am, and i will not apologize.

of course this has to happen during school

ugly
ugly
uglyuglyuglyuglyuglyugly
there is something wrong with me
my skin 
my body
my hair
i dont care what people think
but dismorphia has its way with me
skin showing
hypersensitive
to anything around
dont touch me
please
i dont know how to keep back the dam of tears
if you touch me
my skin will remember your touch
and never let go
branded into my skin
like a bruise 
or fire
i cant remember why i am like this
dont look please
i cant bear the feeling that
there is something wrong with me
that cannot be fixed
the only thing i can do 
is pick pick pick
away at the acne of my forehead
and the skin around my thumbs with my nails
until the drip drip drip
of blood can be felt
shoot
i didnt mean to pick that hard
nonononono
im not hurting myself i promise
although my mom thinks i am
i-i just-
i want...

town

it has a philadelphia-esque look to it
the small part of the city
it has a new york-ish sound to it
trash trucks and renovations and drunken fights (right outside my house, please shut up so i can sleep)
it has its own kind of smell
if you live close to town
just a small town
a little city small town
our city, borough, small town
that can't decide between
just on the outskirts of philedelphia
but not really in philly
but close enough to it
that we locals call it 
"downtown"
though it is too far downtown
for any of us to see
i was going to write about my small town
but i forgot what i was going to say lol

i almost hope they find nothing

the mars rover is landing today, but i almost hope they find nothing. maybe if they found life cells of plants, that would be okay, but if they find a life form like a human or an animal, what would happen? we've already seen how people of different skin color, sexuality, gender, etc. are treated, not to mention animals. what if we find something, a new species that is condemned to a life in a test tube or cage. probed and picked at, marveled and feared. i almost hope they find nothing, because if they do, who knows how it will be treated.

titleee

to the boys out there (i know you're not all bad but to the ones that are listen up)
no means no
want to know what also means no?
im uncomfortable
im scared
stop
please stop
this isnt safe
i feel unsafe
this isnt a good idea
we shouldnt be doing this
im not ready
and those are just a few
to the homo/bi/transphobes out there
we didnt choose this
we cant convert back
im not changing myself for you
this isnt for attention
its not our choice
to all the dress-coders out there
we have the right to be comfortable in our own bodies
dont tell us how to dress
instead teach men not to objectify women by staring at them
if im wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, theres even less reason to stare,
yet you still give me that sympathetic look as if im severely depressed
you dont know me
its not like im dysmorphic
oh wait...
to...

incoherent murmurs of the night

elegantly gliding down a staircase of stars and sky
her silken midnight gown billows behind her, tracing constellations for our observant eyes
trailing along trees, she wanders among the bluebells as if the Earth is but her playground, a meadow to walk in
she whispers softly, filling the world with the incoherent murmurs of night
she easily reaches up to caress the smiling moon, softly stroking its barren ground
the moon's grin widens, greeting its friend quietly before slipping back onto it's path
sliding swiftly through the air, night glides along the highways and stops to look at the streetlights
she lies on a bed of clouds, her thoughts are incoherent
murmurs of the night

bagel barrel

you've probably never heard of it
small town
small business
manhattan bagels
is more well known 
i think
i've never been
but in my small town
bagel barrel
is our only bagel shop in the borough
the workers never change
the one with the cool eye that used to scare my sisters as kids
the short one
the tall one
the one with the hat
the store never changes either
the magazines in the corner (you touch, you buy)
the meat counter behind it
the coffee machine in the back
the fridge with all the best drinks
the bagel counter
and the tables
little pictures
of the bagel barrel family 
on the wall
get it to-go on a weekend
and ask your dad to hold the bag as you walk home
hug it to your chest
warming your whole body
the bagels are still to hot to eat
the paper packaging crinkles cheerfully
smell the melodic
golden-brown perfection inside
it...

here and There

There, my words are eloquently embellished by transitions, punctuations, and capitol letters. (weird, I know)
here
my incoherent
absentminded 
thoughts
spill across the page
like sand on a slanted surface
unembellished by punctuation
and the little gold pieces
i call writing
There, I sew myself carefully together, strings tight, mask held firmly to my face.
here
i unravel and fall apart
not caring who will see (okay maybe a bit)
There, I take great pains to see that my poetry is not there. See, it's already different.
here
i would've written
"i take great pains to see
that my poetry
is not there"
or perhaps
"i take great pains
to see
that my poetry
is not there"
isnt it funny
how changing the place of one or two words
completely changes the meaning of a poem
the melody of a song?
isnt it so odd?
There, my most thoughtful and provoking essay was one I wrote to a few major...

im fine

dont let the tears show, they say
if you wear makeup (no thanks), you'll look prettier, they say
dont read so many books, they say
God doesn't make mistakes, they say
she/them isn't a gender type, they say
you are sinful, they say
you better pray, they say
what do you mean you arent religious, they say
your writing is stupid, they say
this isnt poetry, they say
its too depressing, they say
it doesnt follow punctuation guidelines, they say
youll never be the first LGBTQ Supreme Justice, they say
why arent you listening, they say
her gender will be consistently one gender at some point, they say
we're not misgendering you, they say
stop standing up for people, you could get hurt, they say
you dont need to yell at/threaten strangers who call your friends n*****, they say
because they could hurt you, they said
it doesn't matter if you care about your friends more, they said 
are you...

tItLe

life is like walking on a broken ankle, or possibly two. even in searing pain, you still must walk on.

the attic from a child's perspective

dont go in the attic
the monster lives up there
he has snakes for fingers
and spiders in his hair
dont go in the basement
the witch lives down there
knitting with hanging rope
for the children in her lair
make sure to turn the light on
the dragon is over there
it eats children who are naughty
enter if you dare
my views growing up
were innocent and naive
now i see that there are no monsters
in my house
my attic, my basement, the rocking chair
no, the monsters live in the outside world
and there are monsters
everywhere

truth

her flesh peels back to reveal muscle and bone
dark liquid drips from her bloodied lips
her skin is darkened by flecks of mud and soil
she is the truth
barren and grisly as she is
the amount of light she sheds
upon us is almost
benevolent
as if her sharp fangs 
are not primed
to sink into our unprotected flesh
at any moment
forcing knowledge into us
that we 
most likely
do not want to know
shoving the bitter liquid down our throats
forcing us to swallow
with her dirtied hands
choking us with the weight
of the truth
 

we

when i look at what i have lived through
there is an unmistakable sadness
over 2 million people dead worldwide
400 thousand of them in my country
i wish i could visit all of their graves
to tell them I'm sorry
i wish there were enough flowers and mini flags and time in the world
to lay down by their resting places
i have lived through discrimination
and chaos
and a global pandemic
and all i can do is write poems
only you all
will ever read
all i can do 
is try to be aware
of he
at his grandmother's sickbed
she
surrounded by anti-maskers
they
wondering if they will ever be fully accepted
and we, in the midst of cardboard cutouts at the SuperBowl
trying to see the bright side 
of something that has
too many sides 
to see
but we
that word bounces around in my head
we
are stronger
than he, she, and they
we
together
can...

we

when i look at what i have lived through
there is an unmistakable sadness
over 2 million people dead worldwide
400 thousand of them in my country
i wish i could visit all of their graves
to tell them I'm sorry
i wish there were enough flowers and mini flags and time in the world
to lay down by their resting places
i have lived through discrimination
and chaos
and a global pandemic
and all i can do is write poems
only you all
will ever read
all i can do 
is try to be aware
of he
at his grandmother's sickbed
she
surrounded by anti-maskers
they
wondering if they will ever be fully accepted
and we, in the midst of cardboard cutouts at the SuperBowl
trying to see the bright side 
of something that has
too many sides 
to see
but we
that word bounces around in my head
we
are stronger
than he, she, and they
we
together
can...

Unnoticed

It slips through the raindrops 
unnoticed 
Yet it paints the sky like lightning 
Invisible, it escapes the rays  
of the sun 
but its scowl is visible from space 
In a dark room it is imprisoned 
though every day it causes death and destruction 
outside of the grey walls 
Using the people 
as they unknowingly carry it 
in their wallets 
purses 
schoolbags 
Silently transferring 
with enough of itself to go around 
to hundreds of beings 
and leave a bit of its essence behind 
A well-guarded secret 
That everyone and nobody knows  
 

why i look to the stars at night

when i've had a hard day
when my mind
gets the best of me
when i feel ugly and unworthy and unwanted
i look to the stars
and they tell me that i'm beautiful
why does that moment
only last a minute
i want to bottle up that self-confidence
self-love
and keep it forever
but instead 
i wait for the stars
because somehow
i can't seem
to tell myself 
that i'm worth it
that i'm good enough
it is a foreign
language
this so-called
self-love
i cannot learn to speak it
the words are caged
on the tip of my tongue
no app
can teach you this language
so i look to the stars
they tell me i'm loved
 
 

on the battlefield

i dont want to look around me
knowing that some of my friends
my allies
are not able to look around with me
i dont want to have to close their eyes
but i have to get up
i have to keep fighting
a battlefield of papers 
and pencils 
and writing
and even if you go silent 
on this battlefield of minds
i will continiue
to write
 

The Gender Gremlin (credits to whoever came up with the idea on tiktok)

ok so i saw this on tiktok and thought i would do my own version its funnier on video though. Also my new pronouns are she/them, sometimes i identify as a girl and sometimes i dont identify with either gender. I've been ty=rying to figure this out for about a year but I'm out of the closet! (for the second time)

One day someone asked me how I found out I needed to change my pronouns, and I told them why I didn't have a choice. You see, one day last year after I had eaten one too many waffles, I heard a noise in my closet. I went to check, and the Gender Gremlin poked his head out of the closet and said
"I'm going to steal your gender." And then he laughed an evil laugh.
And I said "please don't, I'm still using it!"
So he said "Well, today I'm feeling nice, so you can identify as a...

apparently

apparently im illegal in 70 states and have a legal death penalty in 12
dont they know its not a choice?

this is what war looks like

anti maskers
homo/bi/transphobes
racists
abelists
and us 
this is what war looks like
a battle of minds
snipers on the roofs
of our souls
BAM another Black person shot for walking down the street
BAM another of our LGBTQ brethren stoned for something we can't control
BAM another 400k people dead because some people think wearing a mask is stupid
BAM another tear from the eyes of the family of the person who died in a peaceful protest, doing nothing wrong
this is what war looks like
and if you are LGBT
or an ally
or Black
or Hispanic
or Jewish
or Japanese
or anti-racist
and so on
you are a soldier
we are the soldiers
we wear no uniforms
no protection
from guns
and rocks
and bigotry
and hatred
this is what war looks like
and BAM another person blows up our forces
and BAM another 
hundred of us fall
and BAM just because there's a bullet in my...

dismorphia

ive never written about this because i thought you guys would think i was going crazy... i didnt know this was an actuall thing (body dismorphic disorder) i just assumed that i had some sort of mental problem.. this is the first time ive really admitted it to myself but idk how to deal with it now...
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you cant wear a heavy sweatshirt and  sweatpants in the summer/but warmer weather is coming soon/i look so ugly/without coverage/is it possible to get one of those full body wetsuits for swimming??/if i wear shorts/theyll all see how gross i look/im not overweight or anything/but i still look off/im not sure if i can go another year/showing arms and legs all summer/why does everyone else get to be so comfortable with themselves/i wish i could wear a permanent baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants/honestly if it wasn't so warm in the spring and summer/that would be perfect/i cant tell my parents/its just another thing...

embarrassment

im bi
i told her
on our walk to school
she asked me what that was
and i patiently explained
assuring her about
3 times
that no
i dont have a crush on you
just because i can have a crush on girls
and we kept talking about it
i was so relieved it didn't change
our already marred
friendship
until we got closer to school
you dropped your voice to a whisper as people walked by
and in the smallest voice
i have ever heard you utter
you asked me
if we could stop talking about this
i assumed
that you were maybe uncomfortable
which i understood
until i looked around
we were on school grounds
with other people
and you looked down
but not before i saw
the embarrassment 
in your eyes

 

the prayer

im not religious
but during the inauguration
a man stood up
and asked for us to pray
so i clenched my hands together
but i did not look down
part of the reason is
im not actually sure if youre supposed to do that
or why
but also
because it felt better
to look foreward
and i imagined
that i could see
our entire nation
in prayer
from my living room couch
praying to all sorts
of different gods
and though im not religious
i like to imagine that i felt something there
but it wasnt a higher being
it was all our voices
straining
to sing out
a silent
amen
and i looked forward
not down
because im going 
forward
i can be myself
i can be free
i am free

songs

there is a song
by the lake
it takes many forms
anything that sings it
it can effortlessly inhabit
it does not matter
the color or species
the living or inanimate
it is all
the chorus of oak trees
stubborn and unyielding
they will not bow to the wind
as it shrieks past their shriveled bark
and though it may seem
that when they fall
the music screeches to a stop
halted by the disorderly
crash
the banging
on a piano
that is not ready to be played
in truth
it is just part of the music
it is part of the wild and chaotic
dance
and though the willows bow low in mourning
the next morning still will come
a song that never began
and never will end
there is a song in the home
it sings with many voices
it does not matter
if it is
an apartment or a mansion
a house or a shack
if it...

(don't) forget me

(don't) forget me
you can('t) see me in the corner over there
so why (try to) remember me?
even if you do(n't) see me
would you reach out a hand to help (harm)?
what would happen 
if I told you
to (stay) go away?
would you retreat (stand your ground)?
would you falter (stay strong)?
if i yelled at you
would you run away (stay with me)?
or would you look to see 
the scared, uncertain (broken beyond repair)
young girl
inside?
(don't) go away
please
if I screamed at you
to leave me alone (stay here)
would you hear the pleading undertone
in my voice?
don't you know
I can't cry
with you watching?
I can't dissolve into myself
if you are right there
please (don't) go
my seams are already ripping
the tears dripping down my face
are not meant for you
to see
if I whispered
in a ragged voice
for you to 
please, (don't) leave me...

Names for Nature

nature goes by many names

nature goes by many names
quiet
beautiful
fierce
untamed
and though nature goes by many names
in some places there is only one
in those places nature is called
gone

 

the sun is not so different from the moon

the sun is not
so different from
the moon
they both bring light
even though only one of them
burns
the moon is not
so different from
the sun
they both are surrounded 
by stars
even though only one of these
can see them
and even though the sun
strains her eyes
against her own
bright sheen
she still cannot reach 
the strands of stars
that only the moon can see

request

This poem is a request for a music poem. I'm still open for any requests if you want to put them in the chat.
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"we'll listen to it before we start to play"
says my music teacher
the class falls silent as surprise symphony
starts to echo through the room
i close my eyes and pick out the melodies;
the violins, delicately jumping from note
to note
the violas, plucking out the harmony
and the cellos/bases holding us all up
its kind of like magic,
this class
because the more we play together
interlock our stories and voices
and tie them together
like open E 
thready, tense, beautiful
the more we play together
the more we are pulled together
our little family
tied together by sound

bleh this was really bad

music swirls around me 
i close my eyes and listen in
keeping beat with my tapping foot
and counting tempo in my head
i lift my violin to join
the voices of a thousand chords
and although the notes come from the page
all in order, bar lines like a cage
the music comes from within
 

rocks cannot move

laughing
through my pain
and smiling
through my tears
has become as easy
as breathing
if the air was
toxic gas
keeping everyone together
while falling apart
is so easy
it's almost 
like swimming
through glass
slowly tearing me 
apart
and being everyone's rock
means only one thing
rocks
cannot
move

title

don't try
to tell me
that i'll be ok
don't try
to make me
take a deep breath
because i don't want 
to have to tell you
that i haven't been 
ok
for a long time
and that empty shells
don't need to breathe

divorce

it feels like 
my heart
is splitting in two
each pulled by one
of my parents

under the mask

under the mask
there is a stone face
sculpted
so nobody sees
what is inside
a hollow smile
to match hollow eyes
laughter without amusement
a painting without color
a book with no words
what is under your mask?
 

Missing

ive been doing a lot today
because its christmas
so i really should be happy
but why does it feel
like someone has taken out
that ability
from my mind?
i was so content 
happy
exited
just
an hour ago
so why do i feel
so ssad?
its christmas!
i should be happy!
why am i not happy?th
it feels like i am
holding something
that i cannot see or feel
but i still 
know
it is there
and i want it so badly
but i cannot find it
ive looked every single place
but there is always more to do
somewhere else to look
something else to see
i cant let go it
yet i cant find me

sad

i wander along the dreary roads
of forgotten love and forgotten woes
each person here has left behind
what troubles them most
in their troubled minds
if they can let go
and walk gaily away
why can’t i?
i try and try to pull myself
of the path of sorrow
it has never been so hard
to lead myself astray
to paint a smiling
happy face
over my gloomy eyes

your title here

a crushed rose
a broken mirror
a hollow tree
an empty glass
a broken girl
a shattered memory
me

sometimes

sometimes i want to cry. i want to cry and sob big, ugly tears and just let myself break. but i have held it in too long, and there is no more water behind the dams in my eyes. sometimes i want to scream. i want to shout and yell and shriek and throw things. but i cannot, because if i let myself unravel just a little bit, the strings barely holding me together will fall apart. sometimes i want to break into a million pieces and shatter like a mirror in the cold. but i have built the walls around me too well, and they are too tight to do anything but stand. i am not allowed to fall.

pieces

pieces of broken
pieces of me
wandering away
flying in the breeze
where are they going?

sad

i wander along the dreary roads
of forgotten lore and forgotten woes
each person here has left behind
what troubles them most
in their troubled minds
if they can let go
and walk gaily away
why can’t i?
i try and try to pull myself
of the path of sorrow
it has never been so hard
to lead myself astray
to paint a smiling
happy face
over my gloomy eyes

i wish i would've told you

hi
im back
i really wish that
way back when
i still was me
i told you all
i swore to never speak
but now im locked inside myself
i cant climb the walls
i built them too well
i wish
i wouldve told you
all the things i could have
should hae
whipered in your ear
but now i cant say anything
i cant even escape
the enclosure
that i
myself
made

silhouette

a silhouette
a shred
a sliver
of someone
lies upon
the dusty floorboards
grasping at life
gasping for air
struggling to make
a happy situation
a happy face
to paint over
its own

write

fingers flying over the keyboard
the cresendo of words getting
louder
and louder
and louder
inside my head
until
the only thing i can do
is write them down
spilling them from my head
like water flowing out of 
the mouth of a cave
head pounding with ideas
sentances upon paragraphs upon essays
searing themselves into my mind
burning away the rest of my thoughts
annialating any urge to do something else
and yet
most of the words i cannot write down
i cannot explain most of my thoughts
it is like being trapped inside of yourself
where am i going
and where have i gone

do you see the broken girl?

as you pass by
the house on the corner
do you see the broken girl
standing by the windowsill
even though she calls to you
you keep walking past
as you pass by
the park in town
do you see the broken girl
watching from the trees
even as she waves to you
you keep walking on
as you pass by
the oak tree in the middle of the park
you see the broken girl
and her eyes fill with hope
as you stop and watch her
she makes people feel seen
but there is no one left for her
do you stay
or will you continue
to look on

things you learn

you learn not to cry
when crying
is not an option
you learn to get up
when dwelling on your past
sets you further back
you learn not to think about pain
when your pain
is considered to be your fault