Tonight I sleep in the sky and fly with the stars
Shedding behind the old worn skin of the days past
Entering the safest place, my mind
And meeting the most encouraging person, myself.

I used to scream silently into the dead broken night
In the now concaved woods, that once enveloped me
And now that I have found the freedom to drop the rust covered blade
I am able to feel the pleasures of the ice cold rain

My newfound strength uplifts me
As my real self comes out, quivering with fear
I am not child nor a woman
I am a transgender man with much to live for and much to give

I maybe young but my eyes are old
I was raised to be an adult before my time
I shall rise to the occasion and give the love I have
While still leaving some to be received

I am sick of a greedy world full of pain and suffering
I am sick of my sarcastic, pessimistic values
I am dreadfully tired of the life that was handed to me
And I am ready to start anew....of my own and by myself.

You're not just "beautiful".

No, I mean, yes, you are beautiful, but jesus, when I say "beautiful"
it's not beauty like perfect "golden, glowing, soft halo" or whatever the hell writers like to glorify about some strands on your head
or having a "radiant smile" or "blush of a fair maiden" or things that wouldn't even make a lick of sense
if not for
biological evolution, physical attraction and Shakespeare.

No it's beauty that your mind is radiant, it's a tragic galaxy that I want
nothing more than to live in
and your heart is beating and it continues to
and you continue to, even when
you feel defeated
because it's you and your mind battle
and you scream out in
every way possible, your spirit and voice is  an orchestra that resonates somewhere in between my ribcage and my lungs and the words
the very words you use,
doesn't that tell more about you than
how "skinny your thighs are"
or how your "eyes glisten in the moonlight"?
Doesn't that tell me more than your "curving nose"or the "sway of the hips"?

No I'm not going to ******* love you for your "porcelain skin" and the
stupid "contours of your spine", I won't worship you like a poet --
I'm not going to praise your "romanticizing self-destruction",
which is so over used,--
can't you understand, beauty is not the face you wear but
the beauty that rakes itself over coals,
the sacrifices you make and the passions you care for,
the darkest secrets that you harbor
at any given midnight, and
even the way you like your ******* tea in the morning.

So when I say you're "beautiful", just know I'm not a poet.

Tippity tap
Flippity flop
Splish splash
Drip drop

Two eyes
One mouth
Two ears
Still uncouth

A melody fills my ears
As symphonies cause cheers

Hiccup cough
Drip and drop
Wheezing sobbing
And stop

Ten fingers
One pencil
Piece of paper
But merely a doodle

A melody fills my ears
As the audience cries silent tears.

What's so illegal about wanting to marry?
What's so illegal about not wanting that weight to carry?
What's so illegal about inhaling the pain away?
What's so illegal about not living another day?

Our choice, our freedoms, once all in the same.
Now apposed by laws and wars and the Government's games.
War on drugs, anti-gay marriage,
No more abortions might as well lead to "accidental" miscarriage.

Suicides and trespassers both shot in the head,
Hacking games and fake identities, you might as well be dead.
Everything we fear the pessimists then "amend"
Pretending to be gods as if their hands are to be a lend.

What happened to the world when freedom was a lifetime?
Not where fat bellowing rich men made ruling us their pastime.
A rebellion is out of the question,
For people are afraid of more oppression.

Somehow comfortable in homes where brains lie with matrix,
Merely made up of fools who are not creative.
Sick of living in these countries of lies,
Freedom is all I ask but it is what others despise.

What's so illegal about being free?
What's so illegal about being me?