Poem - Gender is Fake
Jan. 3rd, 2017 10:16 pmI saw a meme on Tumblr that stated “gender is fake just like me”. This inspired me to write the poem “Gender is Fake”, a story of a person who can only say this to themselves lest the world know of the secret.
Gender is Fake
“Gender is fake just like me”
this I whisper, secret kept
tricking the people, all the sheep
who wish to sleep while I stir
knowing inward this is the truth
while the mists cloak the rouge
in the shadows none shall see
while outward I am the thing
version stamped verified
sham to the people I want to suit
construction set to fool the eye
blurs intended to full disguise
the one striving to match the rest
by standards met in books with rules
long lists the fearful past conceived
protection from the likes of me
etched in blood of the abused
some my own as band-aids weep
where cuts still bleed from the strain
of straitcoats pinching wounds within
self-inflicted by hopeful thoughts
I look to find what I have missed
while in this shell, mock Faberge
made to sparkle while I fade
missing the other that would complete
this emptiness behind the sham
hole in the middle, missing piece
so real I can taste forbidden fruit
thirst for the nectar long withheld
feel the contours beyond my touch
that thing that would make me whole
as it begs to pull me there
dropping to beg full on its knees
while on my own I scrape to please
turned away lest the sheep
drones content full in their sleep
hear my whispers as tears are wept
“gender is fake just like me”.
2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20170103.
Gender is Fake
“Gender is fake just like me”
this I whisper, secret kept
tricking the people, all the sheep
who wish to sleep while I stir
knowing inward this is the truth
while the mists cloak the rouge
in the shadows none shall see
while outward I am the thing
version stamped verified
sham to the people I want to suit
construction set to fool the eye
blurs intended to full disguise
the one striving to match the rest
by standards met in books with rules
long lists the fearful past conceived
protection from the likes of me
etched in blood of the abused
some my own as band-aids weep
where cuts still bleed from the strain
of straitcoats pinching wounds within
self-inflicted by hopeful thoughts
I look to find what I have missed
while in this shell, mock Faberge
made to sparkle while I fade
missing the other that would complete
this emptiness behind the sham
hole in the middle, missing piece
so real I can taste forbidden fruit
thirst for the nectar long withheld
feel the contours beyond my touch
that thing that would make me whole
as it begs to pull me there
dropping to beg full on its knees
while on my own I scrape to please
turned away lest the sheep
drones content full in their sleep
hear my whispers as tears are wept
“gender is fake just like me”.
2017, Sean Green. All Rights Reserved, 20170103.