Uncertainty fills the air
And suddenly I'm not so sure.
Nostalgia begins to decay
But why?
Heavy, heavier...
I inhale and sigh with, what, exasperation?
Creation?
These are all mere distractions
To prevent myself from colliding
With myself,
With how I feel.
Emotional trauma, Part I -
Coming soon to a childhood near you!
We laugh it off
But it does not leave us.
Nothing can leave us
As easily as you walked away
That night.
I will not forget what I saw.
Engraved in my brain
Causing me to crumble
Tumble, tumble...
**Crash.

Jean Chevalier was
A Parisian man.
He led a simple life,
He had no big plan.

'La Résistance'
In took he part,
He felt it was right
In his Parisian heart.

The German soldier smirked,
Strapped in his ranks,
He looked down at Jean
And fantasised war tanks.

Jean was stuck in the métro
Since about half past three,
His stomach was aching,
A cigarette needed he.

The German Soldier, however,
Breaking the 'law',
Lit one up and
Opened his enormous jaw.

His pink, beefy face
Took a long drag,
Jean clung to his country,
Clung to his flag.

Jean gasped for a cigarette,
The soldier saw in his eyes.
But Jean managed yet
To stay dignified.

The soldier whips out a fresh one,
For Jean, condescendingly.
But without batting an eyelid,
Jean declares:

*"Non, Merci."

Do you have a superiority complex?
If you think so your pedestal is invisible,
Like your sickening
Mind Games
And Time Frames
And Fake Claims.
Do you think I'm your marionette?
My strings are growing thinner,
They're not taut
Like you thought
So you can just

********.

It's you.
You are the reason that I can no longer sleep at night.
You are pain... You are fear...
I hate that you are near.
I try to forget you.
I try and I try and I try, but what good is it trying to ignore my own body?
I can not ignore this... This... This emptiness, this longing for acceptance, for change... For something new.
I need you.
I need you even more than I need myself, so no... I can not forget you.
Because my identity is valid, regardless of what they think.
Regardless of what anyone thinks.
It does in fact matter... I'm not going to pretend that it doesn't.
And I'm not going to pretend that you're not here.
I know that you are.
You've been getting closer and closer and closer, until a few days ago, when you truly arrived.
You won't let me feel at home in my own body... I can not touch my body... I can't even look at my body.
Why are you doing this to me?
And why do I feel the need to tell everyone I encounter that my name may match my face, but it sure as Hell doesn't match my feelings?
This is my body... *So go away.
You're only ******* me up further...
And I know that I could love you if I weren't the one you were chasing, but honestly, I just feel panicked... I feel cornered... I feel *dysphoric.
And I'm so ******* frustrated, I mean, why now? Why not then? Why me? Why not him? Or her?
But I do not wish this upon them...
Yet I never did wish it upon myself.
I just want to know... I want to know now... I need to discover the truth... To discover myself.
But you won't let me.
You are making things far more complicated than they ever needed to be.
You are pulling my soul directly out of my skin and leaving my now-useless organs behind...
My soul may be with you, but my dead little heart is not.
And right now, I wonder if they'll ever agree with this... Hell, I don't even agree with this.
Maybe if you had come sooner, if you had been more persistent throughout my childhood, if you had appeared in my doorway before the age of fifteen...
I had always dreamt of becoming a boy...
Is that not normal?
I wanted to kiss pretty girls, wear baggy jeans and have short hair that I could gel and style... I didn't see a disadvantage...
I do now.
You are the disadvantage...
So *******.

Sunrise at Newgrange
and
Sunset at Stonehenge.

Value those precious
hours of light
before it is devoured
by the devious night.

The dense darkness
can sense your fears
and hear your tears

Soon to devour
your sour flesh
Leaving a fresh
carcass in the darkness

And where is my
Great Dark Hope?
Gone to get the rope
Or
hiding in the shadows
waiting
baiting her time
Until we are at our weakest

The last thing we will see
are the Darkest Eyes
then hope no more
As our door is closed
and locked

This is the Winter Solstice
This bitter hiss
Death's long and last kiss

Observing Raven feather-full,
A gleam of blue on black.
The beady eye could look at me
And widen every crack.

Mocking with
Hollow call.
Watch! Don’t let that feather fall.
Promises it’s not hole.

The Raven whispers thoughts of doubt,
Insides sobbing “let me out!"
A thought indeed bizarre
But one can only think that...
“Maybe these birds are?"

A glooming sense of winged wisdom,
Although black and beady eyed,
It would not come as a shock
That their little birds, they never cried!

One cannot help but wonder
If they can see indoors?
Of course it may not seem so
but they always come in fours!

Look out the window frame,
Take a peek!
Observe the Raven’s coarse black beak.

*Just mind he doesn’t watch you back,
Or he will widen every crack.