I feel like Pinocchio
made of wood,  held up by strings,
hoping to be a real boy
but never reaching my goal.
Wishing for my own fairy godmother.
To be saved from the whale inside of me.
This darkness in my soul
Devouring every good thought.
And every speck of light.
I have water filling up my lungs now.
No land in sight
I am driftwood,
Floating in the sea
I strain to see past the darkness
Still wishing my impossible wish
Hoping to be a real boy.

When I look up at the night sky, I marvel at every star
And I see the constellations and even name a few.
Little dipper, Big dipper, and geminii the twins.
Orion the hunter and Cassiopia the queen.
I look up at the stars and see each constellation
And I know each one is unique.

Ir makes me think of how each one of us is just as unique.
I see people of all different genders and sexualities
All combined in so many different ways.
I see people with eyes shining brightly as if made of stars
And hair flowing as if its the trail of a comet.

But I also see people with dark eyes
Eyes dull and cold. As if their star is dying.
All because they've been exposed to too much hate

Hate they didn't and don't deserve
Hate they recieve for simply existing.
I long to help, long to make their eyes shine again
I wish I could rekindle their stars.

I hate this hate. It acts as a vaccum,
******* all of the happiness out of their hearts.
But to be completely honest
I'm just like them. I focus to much on the hate.
When I should be looking at the love.

We are all constellations, and the earth is our sky.
We are all unique and wonderful
And each one of us deserves to shine
As brightly as we want to.

These beautiful stars shine bright
In front of a skyline filled with ink.
Then as if on cue They start to sing
The night's most beautiful Lullaby.

So I count the stars And wonder what they are
I count and I wonder Every moonlit night
Searching for answers, as time passes by.
Hanging on strings Swinging high in the sky,
These graceful figures seem to dance To A melodic lullaby.

I listen, as I look And suddenly I see,
Each little star, Is a precious memory.
And From the safest of places,
I stare in awe, At the little lights,
Beautifully painted on this canvas of night.

I climb up my ladder,
Right to the top, Into the cool night air.
And I hold out a hand To gently grasp one,
And I quietly watch these beautiful memories
Play out before my eyes.

These bright little stars Now seem to play
The nights most solemn and beautiful Lullaby.
These Little lights Attached to a string of mine,
Softly touch my heart As they sing
Humming the night's peaceful lullaby

And Above the world Where I dare to dream,
I listen to This lullaby
Filled with happiness and hope
Bringing light to life
In this darkened world

To You, they simply exist
Waiting to be be preserved.
In a picture,
In a book,
In a mind.

But To me,
they are writers, They are singers,
They are made of a beauty
A joyful song
That cannot be contained

With time They will fade.
And Someday, they will be gone.
But tonight These stars shine bright.
They shine with faith And hope.
These stars dance And they sing.

And these memories play
As the stars Seem to compose A performance,
This graceful play, Made just for me.
So I count the stars, These infinite memories,
As they appear each night in the sky.

I need to show
This beautiful sight
I need others to hear the singing
And I want others to know,
The beautiful song of the stars.

Then I watch the stars leave,
And watch them fade.
Although just for the day,
And the moon leaves the sky,
When the sun comes to play.

But when Stardust covers the floor
Where galaxies swirl, Where these gentle lights
Gracefully twinkle and twirl,
I laugh and I smile, And I get up to dance
to the beautiful music of the stars.

Somewhere there exists a girl.
She is kind, and soft, and sweet,
And a reader, a lover of books.
She would read every one if she could
People say she looks just like her mother.
She doesn't know what to think.

Some place in the world there is a boy.
He is shy, and peaceful, and small,
He is adventurous, dreaming of planets unknown.
He would wander the galaxy forever,
Trailing after him stardust and clouds.
Nobody notices him.

Connecting them is one person.
They are creative, and caring, and bright.
Protective of the people they love,
Even if those people overlook them.
They feel too small to make a difference.
They want to find a purpose.


Three people, so very much alike.
Simalar in so many ways, yet still different,
Each unique in their own right.
All existing on the same Earth.
Seperate, but never apart.
They like being themselves and each other.

The only downside to their lives,
Is that that have to exist together,
Stuck in the same body, unable to change.
Each wishing to fit their own mold.
But they can't leave each other.

Sometimes the Girl in control.
She is the happiest of them,
She loves her body, which amazingly
Fits her, like the perfect glove.
She wished to make the others just as happy.

The In Between doesn't hate their body.
They like how soft they look some days
Like when they can look in between.
But they still feel wrong sometimes.
They don't feel like they can complain.


The Boy has it much worse than them.
When he has control his body is wrong,
The opposite of what he need to exist.
He deals with his problem though.
He binds his chest and wears button ups.
But that doesnt make it right.

Nobody knows that they share.
Most people are content being one thing.
With having a solid identity.
But it wasn't their fault, it is how they are made.
They didn't ask to be a river.
But they still follow the tides.

They wouldn't change who they are.
They get along fine with each aspect of themself
Compensating, trying to feel whole.
They have tricks to help them feel right.
But perfection doesn't exist.

Dysphoria comes as a storm.
Turing the river into a rushing waterfall,
Full of doubt and self-loathing.
Certain things help calm the storm,
But sometimes it just keeps raining.

They push through the floods
Of anxiety and doubt and fear.
Giving themself a bowtie for the Boy,
A beanie for the In Between,
A skirt for the Girl.
They persist.
And they live.