HumanoidMonster
Chained Soul wandering this cursed plane
- Jun 19, 2025
- 129
Hi, I am HumanoidMonster. I'm a 19 years old semi-closeted transfem girl about to undergo the finals for finishing high school. I'm autistic, and recently suffered a heartbreak which left me with a feeling of inner conflict and jealousy. I wrote these poems to vent a bit about my issues and express what has been going on inside of me.
Night Wind
At the window at night, to feel the wind from the outside,
A powerful feeling presses hard deep inside.
A desire to escape, to run, to break free,
which reveals itself only when darkness covers me.
The night brings along that wild, blowing wind,
that makes you want to run with a joyful mind.
Chained home by a thousand dark cables, my freedom is at stake,
but with the night air I will go, as far as my will can take.
I stay here at the window, to dream and to stare,
letting myself be carried away by the Night Wind's air.
The Woman with the Glassy Stare
There is a woman, rare and apart,
who, unlike others, lives with a broken heart.
Under an inner demon's cruel command she sighs,
and coldly, with bowed head, she takes the torturing lies.
Through heavy days she drags herself along,
because her only goal is to survive,
each morning wondering if she belongs,
feigning a faded laugh to seem alive.
Something inside her has turned to gray,
and filled her loved ones with dismay.
Yet through the dark she keeps persevering,
to some vain, fleeting hope still adhering.
There remains, in the end, only her glassy stare.
Tempestuous Winds
I stand here, scanning the horizon
With tempestuous winds surrounding me
A mass of dark clouds approaches, slow and overbearing
Another storm inside of me forms, piece by piece.
A wind of jealousy
That wraps around me and takes my clarity away.
It is impossible to face two storms at once,
And yet, between the two, I clumsily navigate.
With the air growing heavy with rain,
I remain, watching the horizon,
And the tempestuous winds become bearers of ill omen.
A Construct
I must resign: I am a mere construct,
In masculine disguise I play my part,
Inside this body that has now disrupt
The hidden woman living in my heart.
I must resign: I am a mere construct,
Bent over books to be a model mind,
By grief and heavy emptiness obstruct,
Inside a cage of study I'm confined.
I must resign: I am a mere construct,
I copy every gesture that I see,
To blend into the crowd, and thus conduct
A daily act that hides the real me.
I must resign: I am a mere construct,
Bound by these verses to a rigid line,
In ten strict beats my feelings I abduct,
With alternate rhymes, trapped in a design.
Shell Shocked
Soldiers at the front
fighting for vain causes.
Cannon fodder
falling like domino tiles
under the machine guns
It is a common battle
that many of us face
a feverish ritual
I fight on two fronts,
fragmentation of the ego
inner devastation
What is true? What is false?
Eclipse of the mind
Rumbles of bombs and cries of pain
A shame that stains me in time of war
There is no time to stop
Peace is still far away
A deep wound tears me apart.
The burst of gunfire revives it.
Who opened this wound in me?
Whose fault is it, truly?
Above the front
a clear sky
Silence.
The Rag Doll
I am a doll made of rag,
Sweet and kind, with no snag.
Born to follow a model so tight,
Oh, what a burden to carry this weight.
On the ideal design I must base my own soul,
Choking my essence, losing control.
A wicked perfection that blinds and deceives,
In a poisonous world that misleads and grieves.
I am a doll made of rag,
From these tight stitches my spirits will lag.
My mind functions different, it follows its track,
For some people my soul has gone into the black.
In a world never made for a person like me,
A one-legged marathon is all I can see.
A veteran returning from normalcy's war,
In search of my identity, wounded and sore.
I am a doll made of rag,
To the world my great beauty is all I must brag.
Hiding the black vines that twist in my chest,
Clinging to organs that can find no rest.
On my face lies the shadow of jealousy's pain,
Which washes the life from my eyes like the rain.
An empty, bleak shell that is facing this doom,
A terrible warning in everyone's room.
I am a doll made of rag,
But now I am certain, I'm dropping the flag.
For this plastic role I was never designed,
The farce finally falls as the spring is unwind.
To the world all my scars I can finally show,
Emerging from dark waves where deep waters flow.
A person who hopes for a future that's new,
This is the real me, authentic and true.
Summer Chill
In this season, the most wild and free,
Leaving space for a fleeting feeling in me,
You are the only person who could start
To breed a good emotion in my heart.
You bring a breeze, a soothing trace,
With your great beauty and your grace.
My heart is stolen, captured by your mind,
Because a deep understanding in you I find.
A girl with a heart of gold, so true,
My little great treasure, found in you.
You made the storm clouds disappear from my view,
There is no room for jealousy now, thanks to you.
Despite this heat, heavy and blazing,
You are more than refreshing, it's amazing.
The Intruder
On a rainy night, cold and bleak,
An echo of knocking starts to speak.
An intruder, insidious and sly,
Makes my envious soul wonder why.
"Go take a knife," he whispers low,
"And carve your skin, let it show."
But to this atrocious thought, I say no,
I will not adhere, I will let it go.
The intruder breaks into my home,
Leaving a blank slate where thoughts roam.
Unexpected, unwanted, it will start
To cross a mind that kept it apart.
The intruder doesn't match what I will,
That's why with hatred it makes us fill.
But we must not let its shadows scare,
Because to defeat it, we just have to dare.
Take care of yourself, hold your ground,
A place for peace can always be found.
The Matchstick
A tiny stick with a tip of red,
That burns with power, fierce and bright.
Once struck against the strip instead,
It sparks a flame of wondrous light.
A flame so feeble, small and low,
Fragile indeed, and yet so smart,
But once it starts to live and grow,
It brings a lightness to the heart.
Within us all a spark will stay,
That burns forever, deep and kind.
A brush of light that makes its way,
And paints the corners of the mind.
In darker times it seems to fade,
Yet this small match will always gleam.
Though frail, its shield is strongly made,
It drives away the worst bad dream.
To feed this glow is what we need,
To ensure a better future, freed.
Let us sing of a hollow victory
Here to chant of a triumph vain and blind,
imposed on us by a cruel society,
"And the goal is getting further away behind",
spoken as if it were just normality.
All to jump inside the gears and advance,
in a desperate bayonet charge we fight.
Of a corrupt system, hostages of chance,
only one can reach the highest height.
A narrow group of people holds the stage,
pulling the strings of this theater floor,
they made a prison of the common age,
thousands of graves are born from this war.
A grim Stakhanovism, fierce and wild,
where every hero was swallowed and passed,
by its fury we are trapped and beguiled,
only with death can we escape at last.
Why does the world have to work in this way?
The world's governments hold the people in a knot to betray.
A desperate cry strikes an invisible wall,
to fight this system becomes impossible for all.
Night Wind
At the window at night, to feel the wind from the outside,
A powerful feeling presses hard deep inside.
A desire to escape, to run, to break free,
which reveals itself only when darkness covers me.
The night brings along that wild, blowing wind,
that makes you want to run with a joyful mind.
Chained home by a thousand dark cables, my freedom is at stake,
but with the night air I will go, as far as my will can take.
I stay here at the window, to dream and to stare,
letting myself be carried away by the Night Wind's air.
The Woman with the Glassy Stare
There is a woman, rare and apart,
who, unlike others, lives with a broken heart.
Under an inner demon's cruel command she sighs,
and coldly, with bowed head, she takes the torturing lies.
Through heavy days she drags herself along,
because her only goal is to survive,
each morning wondering if she belongs,
feigning a faded laugh to seem alive.
Something inside her has turned to gray,
and filled her loved ones with dismay.
Yet through the dark she keeps persevering,
to some vain, fleeting hope still adhering.
There remains, in the end, only her glassy stare.
Tempestuous Winds
I stand here, scanning the horizon
With tempestuous winds surrounding me
A mass of dark clouds approaches, slow and overbearing
Another storm inside of me forms, piece by piece.
A wind of jealousy
That wraps around me and takes my clarity away.
It is impossible to face two storms at once,
And yet, between the two, I clumsily navigate.
With the air growing heavy with rain,
I remain, watching the horizon,
And the tempestuous winds become bearers of ill omen.
A Construct
I must resign: I am a mere construct,
In masculine disguise I play my part,
Inside this body that has now disrupt
The hidden woman living in my heart.
I must resign: I am a mere construct,
Bent over books to be a model mind,
By grief and heavy emptiness obstruct,
Inside a cage of study I'm confined.
I must resign: I am a mere construct,
I copy every gesture that I see,
To blend into the crowd, and thus conduct
A daily act that hides the real me.
I must resign: I am a mere construct,
Bound by these verses to a rigid line,
In ten strict beats my feelings I abduct,
With alternate rhymes, trapped in a design.
Shell Shocked
Soldiers at the front
fighting for vain causes.
Cannon fodder
falling like domino tiles
under the machine guns
It is a common battle
that many of us face
a feverish ritual
I fight on two fronts,
fragmentation of the ego
inner devastation
What is true? What is false?
Eclipse of the mind
Rumbles of bombs and cries of pain
A shame that stains me in time of war
There is no time to stop
Peace is still far away
A deep wound tears me apart.
The burst of gunfire revives it.
Who opened this wound in me?
Whose fault is it, truly?
Above the front
a clear sky
Silence.
The Rag Doll
I am a doll made of rag,
Sweet and kind, with no snag.
Born to follow a model so tight,
Oh, what a burden to carry this weight.
On the ideal design I must base my own soul,
Choking my essence, losing control.
A wicked perfection that blinds and deceives,
In a poisonous world that misleads and grieves.
I am a doll made of rag,
From these tight stitches my spirits will lag.
My mind functions different, it follows its track,
For some people my soul has gone into the black.
In a world never made for a person like me,
A one-legged marathon is all I can see.
A veteran returning from normalcy's war,
In search of my identity, wounded and sore.
I am a doll made of rag,
To the world my great beauty is all I must brag.
Hiding the black vines that twist in my chest,
Clinging to organs that can find no rest.
On my face lies the shadow of jealousy's pain,
Which washes the life from my eyes like the rain.
An empty, bleak shell that is facing this doom,
A terrible warning in everyone's room.
I am a doll made of rag,
But now I am certain, I'm dropping the flag.
For this plastic role I was never designed,
The farce finally falls as the spring is unwind.
To the world all my scars I can finally show,
Emerging from dark waves where deep waters flow.
A person who hopes for a future that's new,
This is the real me, authentic and true.
Summer Chill
In this season, the most wild and free,
Leaving space for a fleeting feeling in me,
You are the only person who could start
To breed a good emotion in my heart.
You bring a breeze, a soothing trace,
With your great beauty and your grace.
My heart is stolen, captured by your mind,
Because a deep understanding in you I find.
A girl with a heart of gold, so true,
My little great treasure, found in you.
You made the storm clouds disappear from my view,
There is no room for jealousy now, thanks to you.
Despite this heat, heavy and blazing,
You are more than refreshing, it's amazing.
The Intruder
On a rainy night, cold and bleak,
An echo of knocking starts to speak.
An intruder, insidious and sly,
Makes my envious soul wonder why.
"Go take a knife," he whispers low,
"And carve your skin, let it show."
But to this atrocious thought, I say no,
I will not adhere, I will let it go.
The intruder breaks into my home,
Leaving a blank slate where thoughts roam.
Unexpected, unwanted, it will start
To cross a mind that kept it apart.
The intruder doesn't match what I will,
That's why with hatred it makes us fill.
But we must not let its shadows scare,
Because to defeat it, we just have to dare.
Take care of yourself, hold your ground,
A place for peace can always be found.
The Matchstick
A tiny stick with a tip of red,
That burns with power, fierce and bright.
Once struck against the strip instead,
It sparks a flame of wondrous light.
A flame so feeble, small and low,
Fragile indeed, and yet so smart,
But once it starts to live and grow,
It brings a lightness to the heart.
Within us all a spark will stay,
That burns forever, deep and kind.
A brush of light that makes its way,
And paints the corners of the mind.
In darker times it seems to fade,
Yet this small match will always gleam.
Though frail, its shield is strongly made,
It drives away the worst bad dream.
To feed this glow is what we need,
To ensure a better future, freed.
Let us sing of a hollow victory
Here to chant of a triumph vain and blind,
imposed on us by a cruel society,
"And the goal is getting further away behind",
spoken as if it were just normality.
All to jump inside the gears and advance,
in a desperate bayonet charge we fight.
Of a corrupt system, hostages of chance,
only one can reach the highest height.
A narrow group of people holds the stage,
pulling the strings of this theater floor,
they made a prison of the common age,
thousands of graves are born from this war.
A grim Stakhanovism, fierce and wild,
where every hero was swallowed and passed,
by its fury we are trapped and beguiled,
only with death can we escape at last.
Why does the world have to work in this way?
The world's governments hold the people in a knot to betray.
A desperate cry strikes an invisible wall,
to fight this system becomes impossible for all.
