Grief sees grief,

sorrow spoken
in tear drops
and swollen
red eyes.

Grief speaks to grief,

in holding hands,
hugs and
heartfelt conversations.

Grief cannot cure grief,

or see sorrows removed,
flesh unbruised,
and the abused
reborn.

Grief can ease grief,

tension softened
in the presence
of those
who share the essence
of similar
experiences.

To know what I am not
has saved me from landing
in many a nasty spot

I asked my mother once,
What would you have done if I was born a girl?

She offered a name she considered,
but not the blessing—-
not the consideration that maybe,
just maybe,

I wasn’t supposed to be
quite like this.

Mixing ***** and juices,
On Tuesday morning, Monday night,
The parents are asleep.
The stars are so bright.

My body is a temple,
You're **** right.
If it feels good enough,
I'll respect it tonight.

Bandage my chest,
Hurts my ribcage,
I’m a ******* kid,
Shouldn't have to be brave.

You should've been a brother,
Should've got the name right,
Should've been her son,
Instead I'm drinking tonight.

He wished to be one,
but stronger than he, the laws
governing his body.

i miss the best friend
i never had..

he was such a good listener.