Trans Poets On Tumblr - Tumblr Posts

2 months ago

.

.

my poem:

He loves you

Anyone with eyes could see

Everything I’ll never be

Soft and sweet

Dreaming about pregnancy

Opening doors before you speak

Crawling babies, you’ll never be alone

Scribbles on the walls

A secure place to sleep

A nest he built for me

Furry arms to doze the day away

All the things a girl like me could wish for

Burden to what’s in between my knees

Perfect for a hall pass or midnight vacation

A cheating scheme

Who you visit only after she goes to sleep

John pays for this to be discreet

Daddy pleads for a discount

Promising you’re all he needs

Yet if it weren’t for what’s underneath my skirt

He wouldn’t blow up my phone

Delivering roses and sweets

Requesting pictures and videos of me

I’m a vision, a muse, a watercolor painting

One tiny man could buy but never keep

Grab her by the hips

And rob her delicacy

Innocence belongs to the naive

I’m all out of trust

Love was too expensive

Only left me falling to my knees

The tears roll and frowns cement

The boys I choose promise one thing

To cherish me while leaving me bleeding

A stream on my cheek

He cradles my manicured face with an open fist

Tells me I have to beg for more

Soaks my bedsheets and breaks my bed frame

I guess I like it

My mind’s empty and legs weak

I asked for this pain

Block your number as I lock the gate

The checks cleared and lipstick smeared

If loves so cheap, why am I still here picking weeds?


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10 months ago

The Blaze Behind the Door

A Keystroke made, a memory created.

Beyond the pixels a connection is born,

Kindled between two, but not fully reciprocated.

Time's arrow marches forward, and a spark is ignited,

A passion beyond anything felt before.

If only I could have seen the fire,

The blaze behind the door.

Memories of happiness flood the open room,

thrashing, crashing without care or direction.

empty promises made to bring the calm to the raging waves.

promises of hope, of peace and affection.

The waves grow louder, harsher and cold,

As scars are made, and composures fold.

The fire burns brighter, being forgotten and ignored,

The raging ember, the blaze behind the door.

Wood crackles and withers, as the door collapses,

Screams echoed, pleasant memories burn to steam

the pressure building, the fire too hot, I can't take this anymore

I stand there idle. My heart wailing "Where did I go wrong".

The ashen doorway taunts me, as I walk into the flame,

If only I'd put out the fire. The blaze behind the door


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