Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
It seems my life can be chalked up.
To not understanding opposite sides.....
I get it I'm the worst in history.
I was going to post an poem about how my uncle cookie was on the same **** I was for two months before he peed it out. That was where he got the bad tastes from my mind. Although I've never met him.  That's just me imagining. They must give this stuff to not only trans but closet gays as well. Anyway. I dont know what to do. Fall out boy basically made it seem like people with my condition lick ***. We think were so ******* great. I know every ******* word in thanks for the mmrs by f.o.b is about people through my struggle.
I legitimately was  scared to go blind. So I purposely never wore safety glasses. I thought I should be an escort for a while just like the song says
Collecting pay cheques lovers.
The crystal ball is supposed to show me my long term thinking and maybe I'll start receiving some of the foreshadowing I've been putting out. But than I know myself if I worry over something too much it won't come true. So some things are better left to happenstance.... listen guys PSA. I'm just as scared and frightened as you guys. I'm scared to admit I was wrong. Scared to be right. Scared of people. Scared of god.scared and embarrassed.
Barely a human being at times but I gave it my all projecting my thoughts and feelings to the world for that amount of time. At first I couldn't focus on even the smallest thing while I was doing it. Than it became second nature. I wanted to help people to whatever best I could. All the funny stuff was me lol. The really good stuff well that was god. He loves you. All of you. Hell never stop. I've tried to do everything right to turn into a girl. But when I foreshadowed the complexes built in my left brain it was a lot easier to create them in that momentary glimpse ahead. But not so easy as of rn. Anyway whatever happens know I love you guys. So deep. I left my mark. Maybe never told in a history book.but something definitely magical happened. You guys got to know me. And I figured out what the **** was so funny. Lol and hollllleeeee **** it was funny. I heard a man outside my house say I hope he doesn't play guitar. And I figured that was the next stage by fall out boy saying worst you got better put your fingers back to the keys... but I had bad juju when I was young. I sold my soul or as I believed it. To play guitar. For 10 years i was under the impression that should i learn guitar. I would lose my soul.
Put clearly if you guys want me to just go to the program i will
I was surrounded. By homophobic peers.
A nostalgic fear. That's wierd.
Is I'm trans. But im
Taken for a ******  or a queer...
Romantic thoughts of my buddy.
And **** near.
Thinking have my *** after this beer.
Masking damaging emotions.
And mis packaging them as wierd..
Causing. Diligence. For sabotage.
And nothing is as it appears.
I made stories. In fantasy
That tragically randomly appeared
While masking
Kindness. Becoming blinded.
To manage trans queer
Fears to answering my peers.
I lost sight of vital
Reverted back to tears.
I craved submission
But my position as a man
Was damagingly clear.
**** Yoda dont read instructions
I can handle it from here.
**** my raps I'll say it twice.
I'm a man and skins elastic
The body is actually not half as bad
As it appears...
Weapons with black grips.
Average life of a massacre.
Twenty to 25
The wallet reflects on the
With ammunition not
For beginners or amateurs.
Steven. The meat cleaver wielding
Man with a mask.
And a savage urge...
But I'm transexual. If this the show
You been asking for...
I glitterize the fan fiction writers. With a parallel universe.
Staring at the ceiling revealing
Scary words.
I say so the demons dont carry hurt
While they share my words.
Like I'm barely searched.
I rarely turn.
To tearing up my stomach.
Prayers for me.
Tear my dreams.
Into a vital heart that cant keep pumping.....
**** assumptions.
Barely clean. A dairy cream
That turns to vomet. In my stomach.
Telling you this contagious.
Hatred. Means I'm not forsaking
Gods name.
You major ignoramus
I'm dancing in the devils danger
With rangers like
New york in the playoffs
So set the day to break.
Like Jim Carey's mask.
Can take a break.
My fiscaud. Is far too great...
And bullets dance.
Like trances making shadows
In the grave....
Open to submission while I slate a million tears to flood the names
Of every name.
That built this place.
Like Hoover said *******
I'm a flood the eco with fate.
Greatness. Dental dams.
And gay micro waves.
Like mini pizzas. Waxing melt.
And hot plates for college plates.
Dare devil with a master plan
Accredited with 7 kills.
Debt to the devil. That invented
His attention skills

Crafted in the heart of monster
Debted with a mercy streak....
A first rate cut like guts will spill
And you ***** will be the first to see..
Surgery with urgent needs
detergent cleans the ****** scene
Detective with a pet peeve
For erecting death in ****** teens

A tiny word becomes a curtain scene
And closes. On a ghost.
No way I thought.
The ******* would return to the ****** scene
And revive me from the dead just to ****** me
Rise above.
Rise above your fears.
Face everything.
Dont cut and run.
They have the habit of chasing you
Battle your demons
Be comfortable with loneliness
Dont be mad or bitter
The world owes you nothing
You owe the world a great debt
And it is your duty to carry
The seed of fertility.
To birth knowledge.
Planting it in even the darkest corners
Where sunlight rarely blesses.
Carry on your best intentions.
And see the work you've started to completion.
Push yourself to break.
Than heal and break again.
But dont forget compassion
Where flaws exist. Insecurities flourish
Where insecurities live.
Fear consumes
Where fear exists there can be no love
So make sure to bandage your flaws with love.
Water your seeds with optimism
In Hope's they will bloom.
Even in the darkest corners.
God does not remember your sins
But rather your bravery
In repentance.
You are his child.
Believe in yourself and others will soon follow.
For an idea becomes a motive a motive becomes a plan.

A plan becomes a deed.
But first the idea must be sparked than the flames fanned and watched carefully to avoid a wildfire of mishaps.
As good intentions sometimes become.
If left unchecked.
Consider the feelings of others
But care not what they think of you.
It's easy to get consumed in head games.
So remember nobodies perfect
And magnifying your flaws does not make them invisible.
Eyes of a sky. So entwined
With worldly promise.
The absence. Of a god is like
A girl deprived of chocolate...
And eyes of god.
See Gabriel's gift. To the prophet.

Of love. Battle Songs. And jaws
Of hardened granite..
Manic episodes. That make
Me want messianic status...
Capture the head of Janet.
Just to stop the yapping...
Funny if I'm a girl
Why you call me man. ******
*** Amanda Bynes played shes the man.
And mulan was the script of trans mishappened.
Thrown in a mislabeled basket.
Washed with miss matching fabrics
To stain the water.
Now my fathers cloth is
***** crayon. Spray on sealant
Matching shade of batshit....

Palette of a dancer. With a rat **** wig and talent matches
Like she came from insanity.
Who could of imagined this great
Manifested. Happiness would happen...
Like a planet of amateurs.
Who took for granted.
How God's plan was greater than imagined flaws.
Anxiety. And dry heaves.
In a weaved contour of detour.
To a place of committed insanity
Death and damage to my manhood.
Surgeon. Working. With imperfections. Managing
In the band saw....
Chop a ******* hand off.
Hold my throat at ransom
For cash candy. And a soft retreat to chuck berry's mansion.
Complex of cher. Celine dion.
And the killers.
Speak of jesus. My knees like freon
Keep me clean my cheeks breach my teeth.
And soon the village sees
I different me.
Intended and invented. Born of
Meaning. Caution but promised.
To be clean of tempered damages
And diagnosis ****** forensic.
**** it I'm just rambling.
Dont believe the plot.
The director or the camera men
The novels much better.
Jot my thoughts in pen
And saturate the smooth canvas
With the dancing ants
That manifest. Loss of sanity.
Like washcloths in the basket
Marked for bleach.
But reaching its arm into the washer
To clean its conscience.
Body stops. The heart collapses.
Revived. Brought back from
Jesus. God Angel's. ..
Next page