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Dec 2016 · 312
Maxwell Dec 2016
I was a beautiful sculpture, you were the artist who tried to fix me but broke me instead. I was a painting, you the curious kid who touched me before I was dry. you ruined me. you smeared me. I was a plant growing, finding my place and you cut me down. Everything I grew again you cut me down to remind me that you control me.
it's been 3 years and you still control me. sometimes I'm outside with my dog or my sister or my nephews or myself. sometimes I'm outside and I'm so scared that you'll walk down my street again. you walked down my street the other day. my heart **** near fell out of my chest. I was scared and I wanted to yell at you and demand to know why me. I was only 14. for 14 years my mom kept me safe. I was wrapped in bubble wrap but you popped it all and touched me. I was a balloon, seeing the bright of the world, the beautiful bright positive world. you were a needle and with one touch I fell back to the ground and I saw only dark. I wanted to be in the ground. I wanted to be the dark.
No one wants a broken balloon,no one wants a smudged painting, or a dying plant or a statue that is falling apart. no one wants the broken one.... I'm not the broken one. I'm the balloon covered in tape. my air still leaks when I'm touched but I just blow myself back up and retape my edges. I used new colors and I created a new painting from what I had. I still have smudges but *******, just look at those colors. I'm no longer a dying plant, I'm just proving that I can grow from nothing. Watch me grow. I may be a broken statue but now I have character. my pieces formed a new statue. this statue is stronger.
you are not an artist but a critic. you said no one but you could love my flaws. my flaws are the best things about me. these make me everything you never liked about me and let me tell you, I found more bubble wrap.
I still want to know why me but I've realized you have no reason. people like you never do. but don't worry about me, one day I'll be in a museum I just have some more work to do. I just need to spend some more time on myself.  you will see me in a museum and say "look any my hands, I hold those colors" No, your hands will hold faded dark colors and I will be bright. your hands will hold the wrong pieces, you do not fit in the puzzle I call my life. one day I will not have any pieces missing but right now I do and I've learned that's okay. I'm okay.
everything is okay. everything will be okay. go wash your hands, don't touch the statue, leave the plants alone, put the needle away. my art does not need you to fix it. I am my own artist.
Sep 2015 · 899
Maxwell Sep 2015
A few weeks ago I was given flowers.
Pink, yellow, white and a touch of purple all in a pretty vase.
On my dresser they sat and everyday I saw them.
As time went by they started to turn brown.
They curled in on themselves like a baby in the womb
And soon after that they began to fall,
just like leaves on an October night.
A few of the flowers still remained beautiful,
they still had that sweet smell.
I picked their petals and saved their beauty.
I pressed them in a book to  preserve their looks
These petals sat on my dresser,
day after day.
Their color faded, like an artists painting gone wrong.
what used to be beautiful became nothing more than a mess,
I just wanted to save the beauty.
The beauty of the first kiss, the first love, that first time,
the feeling I wanted to save.
But there have been more kisses, another love, a new path.
And just as the flowers on my dresser died so sudden
my walls fell down, my heart opened up, my path changed.
Just yesterday I was outside with that new love
and I saw a flower growing in between the sidewalk cracks.
Beautiful, new, fighting for a chance.
It was there that I realized; beautiful things are not ours to take.
And if something wants to grow then it will find a way to grow.
All because a few weeks ago I was given flowers.
My boyfriend recently got me flowers and over time they have started to die. One day while looking at them this poem came to me.
Jun 2015 · 513
A Heart's Song
Maxwell Jun 2015
I kissed the scars on your skin, I still think you're beautiful. But I don't think words can express your beauty. You know.. they say that love is forever and your forever is all that I need. I've heard them say "This is your time, you better make it, it could be gone before you know." They're right, when you have today you should say all that you have to say. I can't promise that things won't be broken but I swear that I will never leave and all I know is not one should have to be alone. I am free now, free to live without my fears I believe now there's a reason why I'm here and the reason is you. I just wonder, is there a right way for being strong because it feels like I'm doing things all wrong. I wanna watch the world end with you, honestly I just wanna take your time. One day I wanna marry you because you're amazing just the way you are.That day I'll look at you and say "I said I'd never let you go and  I never did." Because I'min love with you and all your little things. I fall in love with you everyday and I just wanna tell you your smile's forever in my mind and memory. If I let you know I'm here for you maybe you'll love yourself like I love you. When I'm without you no words can explain the way I'm missing you. I don't care what your past is, I won't let you go. When you need me just tell me and I'll be there. I'm here when you are sad, when all your clouds turn black. I'd never ask you to change because you're amazing just the way you are and I think I wanna marry you.
Different songs I turned into a poem.
Jun 2015 · 2.3k
I Hear You
Maxwell Jun 2015
What my body needs to say...
"Relax, things won't always be this way."
"...But what if they are?"
"Then we get through it. Our feet still walk where we need to go, our eyes still see the sun, our ears still listen and hear the positivity above the hate...relax, our skin feels the sun and the touch or him, and our lips can still smile. I promise, I'm becoming you just give me some more time. These scars will fade and become a distant memory but our journey will not end. You're okay, we're okay.. just hold on a little longer."
My prompt was to write about what you need to hear from your body or to write a different ending for your body's story
Jun 2015 · 717
Natures therapy
Maxwell Jun 2015
A bridge between the trees and above the water.
Stop, listen....
The trees are whispering their stories through the wind.
The water rushes under your feet.
Birds tells stories to one another back and forth, back and forth.
The air begins to get colder and the sin goes away for the night.
A blend of orange, pink, red painting a picture in front of you.
Smell the water and the trees becoming one with the wind.
And feel yourself letting go of everything and letting in the bridge.
This bridge is life's eraser erasing all those nasty words and replacing them with all different sights and sounds.
A bridge between the tress bridges the gap from one smile to the next
The prompt to write about was a time you listened to your body. Down the street from my house is a bridge that very few people know about. It's somewhere I go to when I'm having a bad day, it's somewhere I feel safe and happy
Jun 2015 · 586
Eyes see so soon
Maxwell Jun 2015
Eyes opened at birth and saw the world.
Eyes saw love and happiness before the mind realized corruption and madness.
Eyes see little glimpses of hope in the dark of the night, that one star that shines the brightest.
Every night they close and let my mind see for a change.
Every morning they open allowing my to see colors & sunsets & love & hope & peace.
Eyes have scanned countless books, everyone finding a place in the house of the eyes.
These eyes have cried countless tears, many from sadness, some from hate, few from happiness.
Eyes that have sparkled with joy.
Eyes that find the bright star in a dark night and don't let it slip
My writing prompt was to write about one part of my body that I appreciate.
Jun 2015 · 2.4k
My body's story
Maxwell Jun 2015
This is the story my body tells...
A story of struggles marked with scars.
A page of freckles from the sun kissing my skin.
Cracks and snaps from the past breaking me down.
Every breath tells my body that my binder is there.
My body tells what I was born as but is becoming what I am.
In a mirror my body shows eyes that have seen so much.
Lips that have spoken many regrets but many accomplishments.
Ears that have heard too much but sometimes not enough.
In a mirror my body tells a deep story.
My stomach houses the scar from a box too sharp.
My fingers grasp the rope so tight that keeps me above the water.
My body tells a story but my mind a deep tale.
At a group I go to we had four writing prompts. This was the first one, it was if your body tells a story what would it be?
Jun 2015 · 436
I say in love
Maxwell Jun 2015
"you're dating a guy, doesn't that make you gay?"*
I love a guy, I love his smile, his eyes, and his kisses.
his hand in mine makes me smile.
my stomach flutters when he's around.
he takes my worst days and makes them the best.
He has my heart in the palm of his hands.
He is my knight in shining armor, the rainbow after the rain, the sun after a dark night.
He is the start of my favorite song,
He is the voice whispering to me "It's okay." when everything goes wrong.
He's the warm blanket on a cold night, my umbrella in the rain.
my first and last thought of the day is him.
He's my boyfriend, he is my love, he is the rock keeping me standing through the worst storms.
I am in love, I am happy, I am free and I am me.
If loving him makes me gay then I am the resulting child of Neil Patrick Harris and Ellen Degeneres.
You might say gay but i say in love with the greatest guy I know.
The best part is....he loves me too
I've been getting called gay a lot for being in a same *** relationship...this was the result. I have an amazing boyfriend and I love him to death
Jun 2015 · 334
Maxwell Jun 2015
They all look at me wondering how I became this way
Let me count the ways
One wrong body
Two parents that gave up
Three words abused over and over
I love you
Three treatment centers
Four months getting help
Five years old when he left
Six schools before I'm 16
Seven days everyday I force myself to keep living
Eight pounds lost in one week
Nine bruises I cannot explain
Ten out of ten families say they wish they saw the signs
Nine more minutes until I'm gone
Eights years I've been feeling this way
Seven days in a wee that I'll never live again
Six words that I always hear "why don't you just **** yourself?''
Five days a week I hear those words
Five years between me and the guy who took my trust in guys
Four minutes that felt like years
Three breathes left
Two parents with
One less child
Zero people saw the signs
Zero, how many years i have left
Zero chances
Zero regrets
May 2015 · 543
A whole new track
Maxwell May 2015
She said "baby, your voice is my favorite song"
I should have known, a favorite song lasts for only so long
You listen to it over and over
Until it becomes too much.
I think she has a new favorite song...
Perhaps she's been listening to it all along.
The beat of my song never changed,
But for her I would have changed everything about this song.
My song has ended and she's on to the next.
She can try to rewind this tape,
But this song has been deleted.
There is no way to get it back,
No history of the song ever being recorded is found.
She said I was her favorite song.
That song was in so many playlists but now,
Now those playlists have all new songs.
It's like they were never there at all.
I was her favorite song
Not now this song has no place at all.
She was my biggest fan
And now no one remembers my name.
These lyrics were meaningless,
The song had ended
And now the curtain has closed
My girlfriend dumped me for one of my friends and that inspired this poem
May 2015 · 953
Tell me your favorite color
Maxwell May 2015
Is it the green in her eyes when she looks at me and smiles?
Perhaps it's the red of her cheeks when she blushes.
Black like her eyeliner and nails, is that it?
Red like the blood pulsing through my body coming to the surface at her every touch.
The perfect mix of brown, blonde and black in a messy ponytail slowly coming undone.
The darkest shade of blue when I'm missing her touch.
The colors of her paint a picture that only I can see the beauty in.
If only she could see.
She's a masterpiece and she is the artist.
Everytime I see her I'm mesmerized by every detail.
The crinkle of her eyes as she laughs.
The smile she gives me when she thinks I don't see.
Her eyes looking at something she loves.
She's my masterpiece, my favorite artist

She looked at me and told me "tell me your favorite color"
How can I tell her that it's her that is my favorite color?
All about my girlfriend
May 2015 · 1.3k
Color without a name
Maxwell May 2015
They asked me "how can you say a color without the name?"
This is the color of her eyes looking up at you, the mirror of the sky on the ocean, this is the color of cold hands missing gloves in a winter storm, depression claims this color and depression makes you feel this color on dark nights when you're all alone, when the sky opens up after a storm it's the color of the sky shining once again, and this is the color we never want to feel but yet we do, when you miss her this is the color you feel, and when your heart stops beating this is the color of your lips.
May 2015 · 6.1k
Princess without the S's
Maxwell May 2015
Rapunzel Rapunzel let down your hair,
I can't, I cut it all off.
I don't want that glass slipper either
I'd rather have some combat boots.
I don't want to see the world like Jasmine,
I want to see equality.
Ariel wanted legs but
I want the right body.
Beauty and the Beast,
How about beauty and the trans?
True loves kiss won't wake me from this nightmare,
one simple letter will T.
They call me princess
but I am the prince.
I am not the damsel in distress
because I am the knight in shining armor.
Born a princess but becoming a king.
I am a princess without the S's
May 2015 · 303
Maxwell May 2015
Poetry is the;
Release when I know I feel something but I can't feel it
Words running through my head that I can't say
Light at the end of the tunnel telling me not to give up
Hug when you're having a bad day
Sun after the storms
Connection to the world around you
Feeling of letting out the secret you've kept for so long

Poetry is;    
My connection to others
Communication without saying a single word
Finding the words to say how you feel after searching with not avail

Poetry is more than;
A collection of words
What schools teach you
What you think it is

Poetry is the way to be free
May 2015 · 2.2k
I am a boy
Maxwell May 2015
December 17th 1998 the doctors say "congratulations, it's a girl"
I do not know what I am

5 years old I am at preschool
I ask "why don't they wear dresses?" pointing to the boys I get an answer that boys don't wear dresses
I don't want to wear dresses, can I be a boy?

Elementary school the boys play football and tag at recess, the girls talk about the cute boys, their hair and their outfits.
I want to play football with the boys but I sit alone on the swings watching the boys.
I wish I were a boy

Middle school the girls are wearing bras and the boys are getting deeper voices. My voice doesn't get deeper but my chest grows, I try to push it back but it doesn't work. My sister want to put makeup on me and have me dress in girly clothes.
But I feel like a boy stuck as a girl

Highschool I learn the word transgender. I cry because I'm not alone. I find out about binders and order one. It comes it the mail, I put it on and put on my most masculine clothes. I already have short hair but I put on a beanie. I look like a boy. I feel like a boy.
I am a boy

The name my mother gave me is not mine. Phoenix sounds right for me. A new beginning, a new life. I will make a boy out of this body.

I'm 15 and scared to tell my family. Over the years in my head I know I am a boy but my body tells me differently. I tell my family that I am a boy. I'm scared and they don't say anything about it. Maybe they think if they don't say anything it will go away. But I am a boy

I tell my teachers and they call me he instead of she. I feel like me. Other students call me a girl but can't they see I am a boy

I go to a store and get called sir, they see me as a boy, I look in the mirror and finally see me.

A boy
May 2015 · 277
Our past
Maxwell May 2015
Do you remember the struggles?
I remember yelling and hiding in a room
and being scared to be alone with him
and feeling lost and unwanted
and wishing it was over
and just wanting to be home
and wanting to be a real family
and I remember reaching for you in the darkness of the night

Thinking it would never change
and I remember it all

Do you remember the struggles?
May 2015 · 700
Love is love
Maxwell May 2015
Allow me to open your eyes
we are human and we matter
I am a member of the LGBT family
I have been bullied down and beaten for who I am,
for who I love
This is wrong

Tell me, what did I do wrong?
love is free, love knows no gender
my sexuality does not define me
my gender does not define me
it's just a part of who I am
I no longer will be put down for who I am
gay or straight, male or female, transgender or cisgender and everything in between
we all deserve respect
we all deserve the right to love

Even if it were a choice,
I choose to be happy
I choose to be me
I choose love
because love is simply love
Maxwell May 2015
Why don't you eat?
Simple question, right?
You'd expect a simple answer that's not what you did though.
So, why don't I eat?
I'm tired, I'm tired of not feeling good enough.
I'm tired of looking like this.
I'm tired of wanting to be one of those skinny ones.
When you look at me what do you see?
I see myself and I see fat.
I see not good enough.    
I see not skinny enough.
I see ugly.
So why is it that I don't eat?
I want to lose weight.
I want to be one of the skinny ones.
I want to fit in.
I want someone to notice how much weight I'm losing.
I want someone to notice me.
You eat and think nothing of it.
I eat and I think about how I'm going to have to work it all off.
How I must get rid of it, I must not eat, how it's not worth it.
So, I don't eat.
I say I'm not hungry, in my head I say I'm not good enough.
I step on the scale and see as lost weight.
I get happy, it doesn't last though.
I want to lose more.
I go days without eating trying to lose weight, I pass by mirrors and keep my head down, afraid to see how I look.
Afraid to see I'm not losing weight fast enough.
I eat something small and feel guilty, thinking something small will only make me gain weight.
There are days when I want to eat, I want to give up and eat a huge meal.
I have to get past the urges.
Telling myself that I don't need to eat.
A ******* here and a ******* there, a glass of water to keep myself alive.
I run into my body hurts, until I can't breathe.
As the days go by my body gets weaker and weaker, it gets harder to focus, I wake in the middle of the night wanting food.
I tell myself I don't need it.
I tell myself that losing weight is worth more than food.
So, why don't I eat?
May 2015 · 338
A cutters journey
Maxwell May 2015
I don't like cutting, I don't want to keep doing it
I hate that I keep doing it but yet I don't stop
I wish I could stop but when everything is falling apart and it becomes too much I know what will be there
I know that when it seems like everything is changing some things will remain the same
Like the feeling of a cold blade on my warm skin
The feeling of my skin being cut
The feeling of the pain
The warmth of my blood on my skin
I know that when you rely on something for so long it becomes hard to let go
It becomes addicting
It becomes a habit
A friend
A helper
A supporter
A horrible never ending addiction
You stop for sometime and think you're done forever
But then you fall back into the addiction
It's like a deep hole
You know you will fall back again
When you do the hole becomes deeper
Harder to get out of
It takes longer to recover from
The cuts become deeper
It happens more often
But yet through all this I keep a smile on my face
How is that?
How can I smile when inside I'm falling apart?
When inside I'm miserable
I'm falling apart
I'm dead inside
I'm broken
I'm not the me I used to be
But yet I keep my head held high
I can't just stop cutting
It's not that easy
Because even when life is good my life flips it around
Makes everything seem bad, evil, haunting, tormenting
Words seems twisted
Actions are misjudged
My thoughts begin to run wild
But I know I have to try to get through this
It's like people say
Suicide isn't the answer
So I suffer in silence
I tell no one how I feel
I tell no one about the things I do
I just leave one more
One more cut
One more scar
One more secret
But why?
What good is it?
I've been asked about it before
They ask me
Why cut?
Why don't you just stop?
Why don't you get some help?
Why don't you tell someone?
I've never been able to give a good answer to this
All I say is this
It helps me
They don't know that sometimes you need to bleed to know you're really alive
So I say I'm okay when in reality I'm falling apart
I know it's not worth it
But yet I don't stop
I may never stop
Until one day it becomes too much
Until I finally get what I want
Until I die
No one really wants to die though
They just want things to change
But do I want change?
No, I just want a normal life
One with no suffering
One with no fear
One with no regrets
One with no sadness
A life with no hate
Especially with no pain
All I want is to be happy and for it to last
I want hope
I want laughter
I want to feel loved
I want to feel wanted
So maybe I don't want a normal life
I want an impossible one
One that can never be
One that no one can have
One that will never exist
Maybe that's why I'm so unhappy
Is it because I'm a hopeless dreamer?
Is it because I want impossible things?
Or maybe I don't deserve to be happy
I feel as if the world has given up on me
I'm not ready to give up on the world though
I will be strong
Even if I'm covered in cuts and scars
I won't give up until I get past this
Until my addiction is gone
This evil thing will not stop me
I will overcome this
It may not be today or even anytime soon
But I will
I will learn to love myself
I will stand tall with confidence
I will find who I am
I will learn to be happy
I will stay strong
I will not cut anymore
I will not fall back
I will not be held back any longer
I'm tired of this
I'm done covering my cuts and scars
It's my past
It's what I've done
This is part of me
May 2015 · 709
it goes like this
Maxwell May 2015
This is our life
It goes like this
We wake up everyday and do the same things
We see the same people
Talk about the same things
It goes like this
There is someone who thinks they are alone
They all seem to say the same things
It goes like this
They talk about how life isn’t worth it
How they aren’t wanted
They don’t see the good
Another life is taken
Yet nothing changes
Our world
Well it goes like this
Madness all around
Children becoming parents
Families falling apart
People loosing their homes and their jobs
We don’t do anything to change
So it goes like this
It will continue to go like this if we let it
It goes like this
But is this the world you want to live in?
May 2015 · 2.3k
Father figure
Maxwell May 2015
Dear “father,”
          You don’t even deserve that title. You are not my father. You are the one who helped create the cells that became me. I have some of your traits and sadly your last name, although I don’t go by it anymore. You think you are a father because you were there for part of my life but you are not a father to me nor my sister. A father does not walk away from his youngest child. A father would not treat me the way that you did. If anyone says you are my father they are wrong. You have done nothing for me. I have a man in my life, he is my father. He is everything you never were. Unlike you he cares, not only does he care but he doesn’t give up. He’s not a coward and he’s not an idiot.
             So what is a father? Is your father the one who pulls you close and onto his lap when you go to kiss him goodnight? Or maybe it’s the one who sees past the fake smile, could it be the one who accepts you no matter what? My father has been there for my hardest times. You sir are not my father. Show the world who you really are. You are a coward, you don’t deserve me in your life.
               When I realized who you really are I stopped calling you dad, you were just Bob after that. How does it feel knowing a call another man Dad? How does it feel knowing I don’t want your last name anymore? How does it feel knowing you lost me? Tell me, how does it feel knowing you aren’t really a father?
Since I wrote this the man who I referred to as my father is no longer in my life
May 2015 · 262
Maxwell May 2015
Don’t drag that blade across your skin
Don’t take those pills
Don’t take that jump
Take the rope from around your neck and get down from that chair
Turn off the car, open the garage and take a  breathe
Look around
You think you’re alone just because you don’t have someone there with you, right?
You’re wrong
You’re not alone
I don’t know the reason that you feel like taking your own life is the best way
You are making a mistake
I’m sure that the past hasn’t treated you well
I understand that
I’ve been through that
I know you feel like the world is against you but it’s not
Imagine this
Imagine you really do it
What would happen?
You think that no one cares
Imagine this, someone finds you
They call out your name
No answer
They go towards you and realize what you have done
They take your hand in theirs
It’s cold
No pulse at all
Taking out their phone they call the police
They try to explain what happened but they can’t
They are freaking out
The police arrive
The next day at school there is an announcement
They tell the school that there has been a tragedy
It’s announced that you committed suicide
No one says anything
They are all in shock
Finally the silence is broken when one student begins sobbing
They all think of the last thing they said to you
They wonder if their words pushed you to do it
Your teachers don’t know what to do
No one saw it coming
They didn’t see the signs
Time passes
One of your old teachers drive by your house
They slow down
Then stop down the road
They turn off the car and begin crying
They wonder what you would have been doing now if you didn’t end it
Someone who went to school with you goes by your grave
They sit down by it and begin to speak
They tell you all the things they wish they would have said when you were alive
They tell you that you’re beautiful and missed
That they always loved you
They were afraid to talk to you but they love you
They wish they could have helped
You are sitting alone right now
You think no one will care
You think that what you want to do wont matter
You’re wrong
You will be missed
May 2015 · 228
Maxwell May 2015
If I had a blade I’d be using it
If I had pills I’d be popping them
If there was a tall building around I’d be jumping from it
If I had a rope I’d be tying it
If I was home alone I’d sit in the garage with the car running
Death is on my mind
I feel as if the world would be better off without me
These thoughts fill my head
It becomes all I think about
Ways to **** myself
It’s so easy to say
Yet it’s so hard to do it
Something is stopping me
But what?
I’m alone
I have no friends
No support
I have no lover
I have no family
Why am I here?
I have a blade yet I’m not using it
I have pills yet I’m not popping them
There are tall buildings all around me yet I’m not jumping from them
I have rope yet I’m not tying it
I’m home alone yet the car is off
Death is no longer on my mind
I feel as if the world needs me here
Those bad thoughts all left my head
I no longer think about it
Those crazy ways to **** myself
It’s hard to think about
I was not able to do it
There was something stopping me
I now know what it was
I’m not alone
I have friends
I have support all around me
I have people whom love me
I have a family
Now I know why I’m here
May 2015 · 320
Maxwell May 2015
Mirrors show the cracks
And those cracks are etched into the skin
Deepened by time and pressure
Eyes hard likes rock upon a beach
Letting the water crash over them
In an instant the mirror shatters sending shards flying
Never quite the same again
Everyone stops to stare but do they truly see
This is an acrostic of my birthname which is Madeline
May 2015 · 228
Maxwell May 2015
Have I forgiven your mistakes or rather forgotten them? I find myself going round and round searching for who you're supposed to be. I'm trying to find a way out of this but I feel like you left me in the dark. You left me searching for love and I can see it in the distance but it's slowly slipping away. Who I am is not who you want me to be and rather than accept it you fight back. You call me baby girl and Princess more than you say my own name. and I let you. I do nothing as you call me a name that is not me. I carry on like inside its not slowly killing me. I say nothing because I feel like I need you in my life. I give myself to you and you want someone different. You want someone who fulfills your expectations but that is not me. Over and over you slowly break me but yet I keep trying. I try because I never know when to give up. You leave me thinking about who I am and who you want me to be. You want a daughter but I am your son. You hurt me over and over but yet I come back to you which leads me to wonder, have i forgiven your mistakes or rather forgotten them?
May 2015 · 4.3k
He Is Not Her, He Is Him
Maxwell May 2015
Often he feels as if he killed her. she was a daughter, a sister, niece, granddaughter, Aunt and a girlfriend.
No longer is she any of those things because she became him.
Now he is a son, brother, nephew, grandson, uncle and boyfriend.
She left behind a life for him, a life he now lives.
He lived inside her for too long and now he is free but many still see him as he used to be.
They see him as her but he is not her, he is just him.
So now he feels trapped, how could he explain that he is not her?
It's like her stole her life and who she used to be, which leads him to often believe that he killed her.
Just something I wrote about how I feel as a transmale
May 2015 · 207
Who you are
Maxwell May 2015
When someone asks "who are you?" What do you say?
Do you answer who you were yesterday?
Who am I truly?

We live in a world where we are told to have pride.
Yet all these people are defined by their sweet ride.
You are not your past
Those things you did, well those memories won't last

Wait, so who are we?
What the hell do those people see?
Do they see me as a girl or as a man?
The truth is no one really has a plan.
We go with the flow,
Our minds never really slow.

Me, I am lost
All the madness, if only they saw the cost.
Who are we?
Nearly what we hope to be...
Or wait, we are only what people say,
Who we are changes day to day.

They define us by; our sexuality, our style, our weight
Our grades, our jobs, our friends, our past but wait,
Who you are truly is who you are on late nights
Who you are when nothing seems to go right.

When you're alone in your room,
when you have a tough day,
You put on a brave face to convince everyone you're okay
For that is who you are truly.
May 2015 · 179
Maxwell May 2015
capital letters are a crazy thing. it allows you to spell things out in a long message. Well, It takes skiLL and patience. YOUng love is hard to find But its worth it in the End. ManY people look for it in the wronG places. sometImes it's ReaLly just in FRont of us the whole tImE aND we just need to look.

— The End —