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liebehass
Transwoman, writing her experiences in a straightforward, but poetic format.
2 Posts • 10 Followers • 2 Following
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Prose Challenge of the Week #11 in partnership with The Micropoetry Society. Use the following word to create a piece of micropoetry: “OLD.” The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100, the runner-up will receive $25. When sharing to Twitter, please use the hashtag #poetheme and #micropoetry.
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liebehass

Untitled 2.

Don't grow up.

Rebel against age.

Don't grow up.

Maintain your youth.

Don't grow up.

Fear only grows.

Please don't grow up.

You already did.

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liebehass in Poetry & Free Verse

Untitled 1.

I don’t want to be sad anymore.

I’ve lost this battle and the war.

I just don’t want to be sad anymore.

Is that too much to ask?

Must I hide my emotions behind a mask?

I’ve tried everything else

And nothing seems to work.

I just don’t want to be sad.

Do I have to sit in a room

And talk my feelings out to a wall?

Is that what I have to do?

I am sick of being sad.

It’s every day, an overbearing feeling

And it’s crippling me.

It’s hard to speak when my voice won’t come.

It’s hard to breathe

With this water forever in my lungs.

I just want to be happy.

I just want to live out my hopes and dreams

To not be shattered by all that it means.

I followed my path, and it lead me here

And yet, I am haunted by fear,

Fear that I do not belong, fear that I am far from home.

And it’s right.

I am very far from home, but that was the goal.

That was the reason I am here.

I was avoiding the one thing that scared me the most.

Fading away.

Becoming no one.

Losing my voice.

And now it is worse than it has ever been.

My voice refuses my thoughts.

It rebels against me with every second,

Forcing my tongue to move in ways

That do not show my true intention.

To never be forgotten.

To leave a mark on the word.

To be remembered.

So I sit at this computer, typing pointless words

Into these pointless sentences

Hoping somebody reads between the lines

Finding some form of a message.

Perhaps these lines are a call for help,

Or perhaps

I have simply

Given up.