The world spun a bit too fast maybe
that the lipstick marks turned into cigarette scars.

I can never be free as a bird,
The need for living would lead my flight.

I can never be free as a cloud,
The wind would lead me in the direction it flows.

I can never be free as a human,
Bound by the ethics, responsibilities, rules, laws.

I can never be free in my mind,
My experiences and opinions and agendas running my life

I can never be free in my imagination,
Desires of how things should be,
The things I want, would weigh me down.

In these words I am never free,
For the limit of my freedom lies in my free will,
It is whatever I want it to be.
Now I am Free.

My body is larger
because I have a whole universe inside me
trying to break free.

If I end up
Killing myself
Please oh please
Forget me
I went through the trouble
Of killing myself to forget you.
At least return the favor.

Being transgender is like this:
Everyday of your life, you have always wanted a dog.
For as long as you can remember--
even if you don't know to what extent--
you have wanted one.

You asked your parents, Santa, the easter bunny,
even the tooth fairy.
Then one day you get a dead cat for your birthday.
You say "This isn't a dog,"
But "You get what you get and don't get upset"
So you carry around and care for the dead carcass.

All sorts of people look at you,
unable to understand what you are doing.
So then one day you decide to try to make it look a bit nicer.
You wash it a bit, comb what little fur it has left,
cover the decrepit limbs.

But then you realize the futility in doing this all the time,
because you are still carrying around a dead animal.
So you continue to carry it around because you have to,
no matter how horrible it may be.

Although you are carrying around a dead and rotting cat,
you aren't a ******* cat owner;

You still want a ******* dog.

It's not simple
It's rusted nails breaking skin
Lightning flashes in a hurricane
The crack of a body hitting the pavement

It's the pinch of nails in your palms
The tremble of your legs when you think they're watching
The ache in your chest when your binding is too tight
But not tight enough

It's not a stormcloud, it's a typhoon
It's not a discomfort, it's torment
Its the steel beams in your chest snapping under pressure
Your skeleton crumbling so maybe your chest will be flat then

But all those rusted nails and steel beams
Heated by the fire and fury of passion
Remold into something new

Someone who can stand a bit straighter
Speak louder
Tip their chin up
And show the world who they are
Who he is.

Dysphoria is a skyscraper crumbling to ash
But it's also scraps of wreckage
Reminded into a safe haven
A place of rest
A place of comfort

All my life I have wanted to be him
the one who was there
the one who can go fast
so fast
it was him
only him
Sonic

He goes fast

Man oh man
Sonic is collecting those rings
Wait!
There's Eggman!
He's going to steal all your rings!
Run!
Faster!
Sonic, escape him!
There he goes
Good job, Sonic