lens of / kaleidoscopic shards / render me
All in Poetry
The Formula
boy + girl = couple
Society has hammered the formula into me since birth.
Does there have to be a reason?
I walked away because I had a bus to catch.
The Structure of a Breakdown: My Experiences as an Aroace Trans Person as Told Through Poetry
Cut off, cut out of me
These organs that curse me!
Self Expression
Little girl. Listen.
Amorous to a Being that is Not
The need from your bones to mold right up against someone else’s
Bones that wouldn’t be mine anytime soon
CAROUSEL
We don't have to be their
beholders
or tenants
GIVE ME A TOUCH OF YOUR FINGERS ON MY SKIN (OR THE SUNBATHERS)
Give me an unforced
touch of your
fingers on
my skin.
the handiwork of mine
“It was wonderful to catch up
with you, my friend”
touch
Doesn’t mean my touch
can’t be just as much
tender.
This is close enough
We pass with barely a glance
And explain the magic of all
We have found and shared through whispered secrets
A doubtful confession
Traditional ideas of love never really made sense to me.
Lean On / Idea
until someone’s idea / becomes a reality / and fulfills that empty promise / of “love”