Do Be You

And here is the sister poem to Don't Be. This one is called Do Be You. 

It is possible

To be who you are

And stay the same

Even if you have to change 

To be you

You may

Cut your hair

Or grow it out

You may

Stop shaving

Or start

You may 

Buy a packer

Or a gaff

You may

Start on T

Or E

You may

Change your clothes

Change your name

Change your pronouns

Change your body

If you want

And you should

Do what you want

Do what makes you happy

Do be you

Don't Be

As I've mentioned pretty much every year since I started this blog, April is National Poetry Month and as per the norm I shall be posting a few of my poems.

Here's a poem I wrote last month for trans days of visibility.  Which I stopped doing (obviously) as I kind of got distracted by putting together my own campaign (which I shall be adding soon) but I may go still do some of the prompts and back date them, of which I will make a note if I do.  Anyway here's my poem, I titled it Don't Be. 

This body I am in

Is not my own

It does not belong to me

There has been

A horrible mistake

And because of this mistake

I must endure

People thinking of me

And referring to me

As something I am not

It saddens me

And it angers me

And I want to scream

But I don't

I don't do anything

Don't draw attention

Don't correct people

Don't cause a scene

Don't be different

Don't make people uncomfortable

Don't be yourself

All these rules

Needed to survive

Seem to say

Don't be happy

Innocent

Yet another poem from the previously mentioned contest.

Bad things happen

To good people

To children
Who have never

Done anything wrong

Who don’t deserve

To have their life

Their childhood

Stolen from them

But it happens

It happens everyday

And bad people

Continue happily

On with their life

Uncaring of the

Damage and destructing

They have just

Inflicted

On an innocent 

Thief

Another poem I wrote for the previously mentioned poetry contest.

He ruined me

Because of him

I can’t touch people

Can’t trust people

Because of him

I am tainted

I feel dirty

Like I’ll never be clean

And it’s his fault

I hate him

I hate him for what

He did to me

He stole my childhood

Him

This poem tentatively titled Him (which I'm not set on by the way so if you can think of anything better) was written in response to some sort of challenge online.  I don't remember the specifics, only that it had to be under 100 words and feature overtones of abuse, and I don't believe I submitted it nor the two other poems I wrote for this project, but here it is:

He snuck up

Behind me

And grabbed me

I wasn’t fast enough

I couldn’t get away

I fought back

But he was too strong

I bit him

I felt my teeth

Sink into his arm

And tasted his blood

As it filled my mouth

He let go

And I ran

And hid

I could hear him

Banging about

And cursing

In the other room

I pressed myself further

Into the tiny cupboard

I got away

...This time

Suicide

And I shall end National Poetry Month with this depressing poem.  I wrote this a couple years ago in the middle of my breakdown stage.  And I'm quite happy to say that I'm glad to have survived and am doing much, much better.  Most days I don't even feel depressed.  Things are looking up.

Sometimes it feels like the only choice
Unless things get better
I fear I will have no other option
Choices are limited
I feel as if I would be better off
Dead
Except I can't bring myself to pull the trigger

Pity

I wrote this poem a couple of years ago, probably a couple of weeks before my breakdown.  I was having a tough time of things and my subsequent termination sort of brought everything to a head.  I'm proud to say that I'm much better now.

I feel so alone
I wish I had someone
To talk to
But I'm terrified
That if I open up
To someone
They won't understand
Or worse
They'll pity me

Evil of Old

The month of April is upon us once again and as you may or may not know that means it's national poetry month.  I will of course be participating in this wonderful event by posting some of my poetry.  This poem titled Evil of Old was written my junior or senior year of high school.  

A sickness is spreading
Throughout the land
Passed along
Hand by hand

It spreads like poison
Through the air
Infecting all
It encounters there

Heed my word
And you'll have nothing to fear
Even when
The poison draws near

It travels along
Through rain and snow
Refuses to die
But continues to grow

Guard yourself
From this wicked foe
For when it spreads
It brings nothing but woe

Empty your ears
Of the things that are said
For if you don't
There will be trouble ahead

Strengthen your heart
To the problems you face
Take a deep breath
Accept them with grace

Do not be swayed
By others beliefs
But believe in yourself
To find your relief

And what is the poison
That spreads through the land
Infecting minds
As it slowly expands

The answer's so simple
That no one could guess
The name of the poison
The cause of distress

The answer is anger
So simple, so true
The evil of old
And also of new

A Devil Stirs

Here's another poem from the seventh grade.  I really had quite the affinity toward the darker side of things.  I was going to a Catholic school back then; you would think that between this one and Breathless and What Is This Place? and a few more deeply depressing poems focusing on death and the Devil they would have been a little concerned as to why a twelve-year-old liked to write about dying.

I was sailing be
Out to sea
My peaceful place
Where I could whisper
The questions
Of my soul
In silence
The mystery questions
That cannot be answered
I was alone
I was not afraid
Why should I be
The water was calm
The sky clear
And I was aboard
My faithful ship
The Black Dragon
On which I had sailed
Many times before
A light ocean breeze
Danced across my face
And lingured
I laughed
Lost in a slippery stream
Of pleasure
I looked
Over the side of the ship
And saw a reflection
My reflection
It shimmered
On the liquid surface
My light blue eyes
That shown as bright
As the Moon
On a dark summer night
My pale skin
As white and clear 
As freshly fallen snow
My hair
Dark ebony tresses
As black as
A dark winter's night
It hangs in my face
Concealing my features
Creating a barrier
Between me
And the rest of the world
But if you look
Beyond my appearance
You will see
Beauty
Spirit 
Delight
My Fears
A kingdom of freedom
You will also see
A prisoner
Wallowing
In a pit full
Of death and destruction
Of hatred
But being empty
You will see
My other side
The side I keep hidden
The bad side
Fighting to get out
A somber and ebony
Chaos causing
Disaster
My shadow
Dying to cause
Havoc and destruction
To spread evil and hatred
To cause death
To forever end freedom
And to destroy the human race
The real me

Behind my eyes
A devil stirs.

Funnily enough, the appearance of the person described in the poem looks a lot like I do now and nearly nothing like I did when I wrote it.  I have blue eyes, am usually quite pale and have dark black hair that often hangs in my face.  When I was younger I usually had a tan and blonde hair that was often pulled back into a ponytail. 

Interpreting Blue

I had to write this poem in my sophomore year of high school.  We had to write at least 300 words on the topic Interpreting Blue.  The teacher then submitted them to a regional poetry contest.  Mine came in second place.  Only thing I ever won in my life.  It got me a trophy and a $50 gift card. 

Blue is the sky
That blankets the world

Blue is what supports

The Sun and Moon
Blue is what holds
The Sun and the clouds
The only thing
That stops them
From crashing down
Blue lightens by day
And darkens by night
Where Blue then holds
The Moon and the stars
Blue holds them in place
The only thing standing
Between them and the ground
With every new day
Blue rises and falls
Getting brighter
And then darker
Until it’s hardly blue at all
Blue starts the day young
Full of brilliance and vigor
But as the day progresses
Just gets weaker and weaker
By the end of the night
Blue now darkened and drained
Can no longer hold the sky
When blackened Old Blue
Can bear it no further
A new bright young Blue
Comes to take over
But before Old Blue
Can relinquish hid burden
He falls down to Earth
And turns into the Ocean
And the Moon and the stars
With nothing to hold them
Fall from the sky
And into Blue Ocean
With the Moon and stars gone
The night is then over
And the bright young Blue
Takes the Sun on his shoulder
Old Blue has gone
But Blue Ocean remains
And a new challenge lies ahead
For Blue Ocean must now learn
The ways of the water
All the motions and movements
From the smallest of ripples
To the largest of waves
The high and low tides
And how something
As far away
As the Moon could affect them
Blue Ocean must learn
How to manage the lives
That he contains
For Blue Ocean contains life
Something Old Blue
Does not, can not
Nor will ever
He must learn the power
Of the Ocean
And how to use it
He must become a master
Of the water he contains
And he does
Blue Ocean has mastered
The ways of the water
And befriended the wind
In the process
For wind has many links
To both the water
And the sky
Blue Ocean found comfort
In the life he contains
And in the fact
That he no longer
Has to be alone
In bearing the weight
Of the world
On his shoulders
But he also misses the sky
He misses the freedom
And he knows
Knows what he has to do
And a refreshed Young Blue
Is pulled up to the sky
Blue Ocean is gone
But Young Blue remains
Blue moves in a cycle
Never ends
Never wavers
Just continues
One of the few things
That is constant
And Blue is the sky
That blankets the world

My Dream

I usually don't write rhyming poetry because I think that non-rhyming poetry is more expressive.  It's also much easier to find the words to express yourself if you're not restricted to finding something that rhymes.  But occasionally I will write something rhyming.  This poem which I titled My Dream was written my senior year of high school for a project where we had to write about what we wanted to do with our life.  

My dream is to become a writer
My only certain goal
But if I wish to accomplish this
I must view things as a whole

Writing helps to calm me
Helps me find a peaceful place
Where I can think without disruptions
In my own special space

All the people who annoy me
All the people I deplore
I retreat into my peaceful place
And hear their voice no more

All the anguish and the pain
That seem to hover overhead
While in your conscience state
It fills you up with dread

For your death is imminent
As is nature's way
And none alive escape this fate
However much they pray

The Earth itself will be destroyed
Its' surfaces soon will fade
Eventually it'll turn to dust
Due to the damage man has made

Man's lees than cautious treatment
Of this place on which we live
Spells destruction for humankind
The gift that nature gives

And no amount of adoration
No amount of care
Can undo the past
Of what has happened there

The world is not expendable
Can never be replaced
If only one could've looked ahead
To see what would be faced

What's done is done
Will now remain
There is no turning back
What's been done to this domain

For man's mistakes went unnoticed
The time to change surpassed
And nothing can be done
To rectify the past

And as the time passes
The Earth will crumble from within
And only then will man remorse
For he'll know the end has just begin

One by one we will succumb
And except our doom
But until that happens
Our life we will resume

And I plan to be a writer
But as the words spill to this page
I wonder...
Will there be a world left to write for?

Sick

Head throbbing
Nose running
Throat raw

Ears ringing
Eyes watering
Limbs heavy

Vision blurry
Breathing strained
Hearing gone

Room spinning
Color fading
Blackness

Breathless

Here's another one of my earlier poetry works. 

The air was thinning
Right before my eyes
Getting thinner
And thinner
Every breath I took
Was a struggle
The air gave me
One last wave
Before disappearing completely
I cried out
I could not breathe
My lungs seemed to be wasting away
I took one last
Strained breath
Before I sank to the floor
And lay still

Normal

I wouldn't exactly say that I want to be normal but I wish I wasn't as strange as I am.

N is for Normalcy
     Dismiss the irregularities
O is for Opportunity
     Overlook the formalities
R is for Repellency
     Describes our compatibility
M is for Mortality
     We all die eventually
A is for Animosity
     Ignore the hostility
L is for Lunacy
     Disrupts your credibility

What Is This Place?

Not sure how many of you are aware of this, I'm going to assume the majority of you are not, April is National Poetry Month.  And since it is National Poetry Month and I am somewhat of a poet I figured I would share some of my poems.

This poem, which I titled What Is This Place?, is the first poem I ever wrote.  It was seventh grade English and it was the first time I was introduced to poetry.  As you can see, even back then I had a propensity towards the darker side of life.

Nowhere to run
Nowhere to hide
The house was on fire
And I was inside
Surrounded 
By the smoldering inferno
You must come
Said the flames
Creeping slowly toward me
It is time
No I cried no
But my words 
Could not be heard
Over the roaring fire
Yes whispered the flames
In my ear yes
And that is the last thing
I heard before I was taken
Taken to a living hell
No doors
No windows
No place to escape
I was stranded
Stranded in a living hell
Surrounded by a ring of fire
While the devil
Laughed and mocked me
No time to rest
No time to play
No time to do anything
But work
I hated this place
Where I could not love
Where I could not cry
Where I could do nothing
To resist the laughter
That surrounded me
No doors
No windows
No place to escape
I was stranded
Stranded in a living hell
Where the devil
Laughed and mocked me

What is this place?
But a prison of despair.

Pretend

Days until restraining order is lifted: 26

Most of the writing I've done lately has been for the blog but I also write poems and short stories.  And I'm writing a novel as well.  I wrote a lot of poems just before and after I was fired as a way to try to deal with everything that I was feeling.  I've decided to post some of them on here.  This one, which I titled Pretend, was written just before I was fired.

I feel like I'm alone

I feel like there is no one

That would understand

What I'm going through

I try to explain

But I just can't

So I keep it to myself

And pretend everything is fine

Even though it isn't

And in public

I smile, laugh, and joke

And pretend to be happy

And then I go home 

And cry

I think that sums things up quite nicely.  And depressingly.

Reaction

I wrote a poem about David.  It's called Reaction.

He stepped too close
And I panicked
And almost fell over
In my hurry
To get away
Now he looks
At me strangely
And I can't look
Him in the face

That actually happened at work one day.