I got caught up and spent several hours in the night (last night) trying to format correctly a little easter egg answer version of this poem for those who are aware of my systemhood. I’m not certain how many will catch on. I completed a poem itself yesterday late afternoon—with the features of a good portion of my headmates. I was able to post it to **[Tumblr](<https://www.tumblr.com/cjoatprehn/748520001357643777/fluxcore>)** before I did pass out for the next several hours. But it is complete!

Back at it again with Skyler Witherspoon’s poetryprompts! Tonight I’ve written a longer one for Prompt 20.

### ALT TEXT

# FluxCore
**[20. Write a poem about your gender.]**

I, Mx. Whisper, have many genders. /

As the idea of it all is a construct of a lack of fluidity. /

I’m the flow the oceans waves. /

The cascading of the waterfalls /

soaking boat riders in a blissful wash. /

I’m the apparition of the Void, /

that’s just a little guy. /

A fuzzy little cat of the darkness. /

I’m the moon and the stars /

that you shoot meteors across. /

I’m the hobbit underneath the grass mounds, /

Gazing up at passerby through a mosaic window on the ceiling. /

I’m the creature living in the closet, /

Scarred and horrifying /

But is quite wholesome that comforts you on scary nights. /

I’m the stink stink just doing their thing in that there corner. /

I’m the cyborg who’s got his eye out for men; /

Feasting on popcorn as tea spills. /

Mischievously pranking children as a fitted sheet monster; /

Only seeking cuddles and tickle matches in dominance. /

I’m the big brother ready to swing and box. /

I’m the stripper bratty to the lot. /

I’m the drag queen that dresses in hot pink hoochie shorts; /

To the funky Mettaton EX theme. /

I’m the man giving a Megan Thee Stallion-worthy booty performance. /

I’m the recluse in the woods. /

Deep in a book, written in Braille. /

I’m the linguist who fascinates herself in the many calligraphic forms. /

I’m the nameless princess who grew to Duchess. /

I’m the mother of your children. /

I’m the warrior leading armies in the night; /

By the glow of my bioluminescent wings en mass. /

Close your eyes and trust in pixie dust. /

Diplomacy is key. /

I’m the erosion manipulated by your corruption. /

I’m the sky clouded over and misty. /

I’m the tears you shed in gold sunlight. /

How soft a pillow, am I, Mama? /

I’m the geeky gadgets of your endeavors. /

I’m the large platforms you wear on your soles. /

I’m the collar adorning your neck. /

I’m the goggles that snap pictures of your fire poses. /

Slaying your competition in your worth, Your Grace! /

I’m the clicking of your mouse. /

I’m the tapping of your keyboard. /

I’m the manager of your chaos, /

Wearing bunny suits and buck teeth. /

I’m the children of the playground. /

I’m the singing of the birds. /

I’m the climbing up trees to read a book about peace. /

Hey look! A sunset! /

The others going home. /

This is our space. /

The children outcasted from the village. /

I’m the reading in your ears. /

I’m the booping of noses. /

I’m the squishing of slime and swishing of tentacles in the ocean. /

I’m the big hoodie that covers your hands; /

Obviously too big but that’s the point. /

I’m the Death that draws near. /

Not literally but ego-wise. /

I’m the owl that escapes your trap. /

I’m the wings beating in the air. /

I’m the heartbeat within your eggs. /

I’m the goth besties with emo girls. /

Alternative is fun, even with the skulls. /

What? They’re great for mixing in. /

I’m the tinking of glasses. /

I’m the foam from your beers. /

I’m the ice in the shaker, /

with your drink being chilled. /

I’m the warmth of the hearth. /

The softness of clouds. /

The sleek of the silk. /

The Jester in your eyes. /

The screams in your mind. /

The turmoil in one party. /

I’m the boy that starts the fight; /

and the girl that finishes it. /

Settle down or take it outside! /

Staying sharp these days, hmm?

I’m the sizzle of hot in cold. /

The chinking of metal. /

The sigh from your chest. /

The sweat dropping from your brow. /

The sailor-born swear of frustration. /

I’m the coin tossed to your butcher. /

I’m the blade holding your fate. /

I’m the hammer that broke the anvil. /

I’m the one who snores deep and loud. /

A hard day at the forge earns you great sleep. /

Even if you’re napping on a customized warhammer. /

It’s comfortable. /

I’m the brood that has seen Death itself. /

I’m the medium who heard all. /

I’m the mirror you dance in. /

You’re doing great with your recitals and practice. /

I’m the dragon breathing fire. /

I’m the prism that facets color. /

I’m your hoard of cherished goods. /

I’m the pen in your hand. /

I’m the hands on your phone. /

I’m the window to the world. /

The bridge between cups. /

I could go on. /

I am no gender. /

I am a system. /

Of flux.

CJOAT | For SkylersPrompts in Escapril 2024
CJOAT Watermarked