Look what they've done,
torn you apart.
In the name of fun,
some kind of black art.

I'd been thrown into the lake,
arms and legs tied.
I sunk to the bottom,
they thought I had died.
Out of the depths I arose
wearing a beautiful dress.

Some kind of new magic,
like a good witch.
A white art.
I don't seek revenge
for I have a pure heart.

It's now they'll see
that they could never be
someone like me.
Because I'm the greatest
******* in a dress
they'll ever meet.

Poetry by Kaydee.

My name is Sara, a transgender chick
Wanted a *****, was given a ****
I hide it in knickers of satin and lace
before sitting down to make-up my face,
Next the prosthetics, I'm using two bits.
Stuck to my chest, they'll do as my ****
Now for my legs I'll put on false tan,
I wouldn't do this if I were a man
Alternative nights, a t-girl delights
to sit on her bed and pull on new tights.
I'll put on a dress, a cute one no less.
Then for my shoes, high heels I choose
A sandal style shoe as every girl knows
not only looks cute, they'll show painted toes
A bit of eyeliner, eyebrow definer,
lipstick and blush, I'm now looking lush.
I stand in the mirror all ready to go,
there's only one question I just have to know.
"Does my *** look big in this?"

Poetry by Kaydee.

Lipstick kisses,
we're both wearing red.
I motion her over and onto our bed.
Blood red smeared across our lips.
I keep her enticed, I straddle her hips.
Seductively playing,
I'm touching my lips.
Long acrylic nails,
for us never fails.
I show her a ***** and
she gently wails.

She's waiting,
my sweetheart,
I lust her so much.
We ****, we're on fire
and I wonder,
which of us holds the power.
I, in all honesty is hoping it's her,
'cause then I'll continue this life
in her beautiful blur.

Poetry by Kaydee.

A Queen in waiting, a Princess no less.
Each day, a routine before being seen.
For some, a shadow and not of the eye.
The kind you'd find on that of a guy.
An army of pogonophobes in dysphoric confusion.
Each purging our wardrobes,
a repeated delusion.

A leading *******
from a pornographic circus.
The ***** under graduate from
a school of *** workers.
Your Hubby's vision in blue
is our secret down south,
'cause he wouldn't kiss you with
that ***** mouth.

So, I'll stop you there Sizzle Chest
with your cans of Stella
in your pristine white vest.
'Cause this is real easy,
even for you Mr ******.

I used to be a Princess but
now I'm a Queen,
recently coronated
after all that I've seen.

Poetry by Kaydee.

******* barking and let me in,
Check the form,
I wreak of sin,
Where's your Master,
the man in red,
Tell him I'm here,
I'm finally dead,

Those ******* people and their lies,
so full of ****,
I do despise,
I couldn't take it anymore.
My body, I've left it on the floor,
Well, what's left is no good,
It's all covered in blood
and how do I feel?
I feel ******* good!

They smiled at my eyes
and lied to my ears,
They think I don't know,
I've known it for years,
I wrote them a note
and sealed it away,
That note is still here
to this very day.

****** poetry by
Kaydee.

Every time I pull it off
it goes off in my face.
It's in my eye and
on my lips,
I look a right disgrace.
My ***** though
she loves it so
I do it all the time
and if I feed her
from a tin
I'd feel it was a crime
because she just loves
those sachets
that I can't pull open
without getting
covered in
gravy
flavoured
splashes.

Poetry by Kaydee

Twenty years in the fast lane, speeding
was ecstacy at the time.
Sweet heady bubbles of coke,
buzzing at feeding.
No softeners added, lemon or lime.
My therapy, my medication.

******, my mind on a long vacation.
Knowing this time would
one day arrive.
My restless legs, my tired insides.
My not so central nervous system,
twitching fingers, flickering eyes.
This to me is no surprise.
My therapy, now my reprise.

Peotyr by aKydee.

The head fuckery of societies rules.
The indoctrination in our schools
has led to the homeless on our streets while politicians count their seats.
The privileged few, too rich to mention
fail to reveal their true intention.

The NHS setup to break by psychopaths all on the take.
Big business stripped of all its gold,
no pension funds left for the old.
Big pharma, they don't miss a trick,
they're making you & I feel sick.
They push the pills that ring the tills
even though they know it kills.

With the best advice and greatest will
our kids are on **** & fentanyl.
While we're divided black & white,
we'd never stand up to their might
So take your neighbour, hold their hand and together we'll reclaim our land.

Poetry by Kaydee.

Am I really that uncouth?
Have you lot yet worked out the truth.
The **** I write, it's so contrite.
I know you're dim
but I thought you might.
I've been feeding bananas to you all.
Big bananas, none are small.
All are bent, of course they are.
Enough's enough, it's gone too far.

Dear Voyeurs, to all my fans.
Some ride cycles, some drive vans.
for M&Y, yeah you're the guy.
So I bait my line and continue the lie.
But let's have it right, as well I might.
You wanted to play,
so pretended you're gay.
Now most I know aren't,
but one or two do.

Boiler repair guy with the twinkly eye.
Bent over in two, I spank with a shoe.
And all that he asks is, I call him Sue.
So I have him pegged,
for that's what he begged.
But now he knocks on my door
wanting much more.

******' Big Bent Bananas
by Kaydee.

(slurp, slurp)

She's spent all the rent on
cigarettes and cider,
so pull out your **** and put
it inside her.
No need to bring your polished game,
for this one's a **** and that
is her name.
In her **** or up her ***.
The choice is yours,
where d'ya wanna ***?
Say "You ******' ****, get down on all fours, 'cause this is how I **** little ******!
Impale her on your hardened stick and explode inside her, creamy and thick.
Bangin' her *******,
it used to be tight.
It's not anymore,
it gets wider each night.
Then when you're done,
wipe the rest up her back,
letting her know most got
shot up her crack.
Next week she'll be suckin',
an appetizer before ******'
This **** she don't care,
for a TGirl with red hair.

*******
Poetry by Kaydee.

I wake up in the bath
after a day on the wine.
Fat ******* arrives
at mine around nine.
Friday night and it's too much,
the temptation.
******* powder with dehydration.

Back into town,
bouncing around like a clown.
Absorbing attention,
I'm the star of the show.
I'm cloaking my secret,
the one they can't know.

I'm out of my mind
and I've no Idea where.
I cannot go back,
'cause she lives in there.

I've been running for years,
purge after purge.
Yet I know come tomorrow,
I'll again have the urge.

Because I need her
and I love her.
I am her!

Poetry by Kaydee.

A subtle panic like a slow death creeps, the anxiety within me, for here's where it sleeps.
Quietly loud enough to cover the sound, of the glassware you've thrown, now strewn all around.
Rocking all positive lullaby's to sleep, ensuring all menacing thoughts I'm to keep.
It's adept like the teen who's stayed out beyond curfew, sneaks in armed with oceans with which it will drown you.
All because of the lies that were said, went in through your ears and lived in your head.
The life you once had held aloft like a prize, you breathe your last breath and then close your eyes.

Poetry by Kaydee.

Ladies, ladies, ladies,
in all shapes and sizes.
Some like no other
in malesque disguises.
There's more if you know
where to look down below.
From a soft,
sausage snake,
long and hard,
you can make.

Poetry by Kaydee.

Kiss my bloodied lips before you go.
Remember darling, you reap what you sow.
I gave you that warning a few years ago.
So what's coming to you, you already know.
Now close your eyes and hold on tight.
I'll make it quick when I put out your light.
When you are gone, I might shed some tears.
Remembering back, we had some good years.
You chose a new ally, you made a mistake.
It won't take you long to realise he's fake.

Poetry by Kaydee

We're not all chicken heads Sister.
Just a piece of **** meat
to another ******' Mister.
I wear my knickers with pride
and not now, not ever,
will I have hide.
I'll walk tall in my heels
and not under red.
I sleep kissed in satin,
not prepared to give head.

So if you want some excitement
in your life,
drive back home Sweetie,
make up with your Wife.

Poetry by Kaydee.

You're just above the water, just.
You know you're going, don't you.
You've hung on for ages, years.
You seem ok about going, are you.

Just go, now.
Just go.
Go.

Poetry by Kaydee.

What did you expect me to say?
Surely you noticed,
I've got a cat anyway.
Love the lush velvet collar
around its throat
but why on earth
have you coloured it's coat?

Yes, I know I love lilac.
Lilac poppies are best.
Oh ****!
I think you need a
hearing test!

Poetry by Kaydee.

Starting with coverage from BBC2.

Brushing calm shadows into
pastel hills.
A rhythm paints terrain a
sugary brown.
Flicks of green create
fauliage serene.
The clean tasteless air is
cotton soft.
A effortless stream runs
cobalt clear.
Where salmon gymnastics begin
each year.
Squirrels practice dance routines a
glamorous red.
The doormice dressed and ready
for bed.

Continuing coverage on Ch4.

The perch, the tench sat together on an underwater bench.
Discussing bait and hooks whilst flicking through some fishing books.
What's he eating? Mr Mole,
it looks like cheese and ham
on a soft brown roll.
There's a chicken and a fox that
live round here.
Seriously, they've been dating each other for about a year.
Now, if you take the next left,
then over the stye.
There's a duck lives there,
call in and say, hi!

Poetry by Kaydee.

I'm like a song in a clef-less world.
My symphony of blood and tears
have stained my skin of many years.

Duran, Depeche have carried me through
until that day when I meet you,
but don't be long because I need
my happy sunshine song.

Poetry by Kaydee.

And in the silence that's often deafening, I hear my heart that still beats.
Reminding me of more pain to come, disguised as truths we are their lies.
After all these years there's no surprise.
Whispered softly into your ears, we are the makers of salty tears.
One day your heart, cold, blue and torn will cease to beat, when death is born.
Life's light will fade for one last time, up through the clouds your soul will climb.
A breeze from the graveyard whispers death but that's ok, I hold its hand.
A smile in the dark I understand, the effort you've shown, this was all planned.
Congratulations to you, my life is through.

You're trouble, you're toil.
Yes, trouble and toil.
With you I think I'll bring to the boil.
A pinch of salt and a teaspoon of oil
but not too much, your taste it'll spoil.

I'll take off your beard.
To eat that would be weird.
But gristle that makes your knees
into crackling . . .
. . . oh yes please.

With mint sauce on each cheek,
two kebabs that are seekh.
Not keen on the chin
so I hope you don't mind,
that goes straight in the bin.

Chop, chew, swallow and digest.
Can you guess which part
of you I like best?
It's your nose that I grate
all around the edge of my plate
and because I've asked "Please"
that you try not to sneeze.
It makes a much better garnish
than parmesan cheese.

Savoury poetry by Kaydee.

Religion is Recruiting for
Customer Complaints.
Where is my God, the disciples
and all the absent saints?
The time I have invested
sitting in your church.
This wasn't in your advert
you've left me in the lurch.
I'm asking for a refund,
you've years to reimburse
and then there is the funeral,
the flowers and the hearse.

I've sat on your pew,
spent time praying to you
and now that I'm dead,
I'm unsure what to do.
I should have known better,
you never replied.
Yet I kept the faith
until the day that I died.

Now I queue to complain,
I must be ******' insane!
because,
well,
you don't even exist!

Poetry by Kaydee.

If I can't be your Daughter,
then I won't be your son.
Forget the shame and
just move on.
The next time you won't see me
I'll be wearing a skirt
and not doing just to please you
would just hurt.

By letting you go there's
nothing I lose,
I care not what you think,
nor of your views.
You should've known anyway,
"A Mother knows" or so they say.
You've run out of time,
I won't wait anymore.
So go and tell that to
the other four.

In fact they too are to leave me alone,
don't knock on my door
and don't try to phone.
You've ignored me too long and
in that time I've grown.
In fact, you've taught me
how to live alone.
The Woman I am has no
fear anymore.
Now walk straight through it,
I'm showing you the door.

Poetry by Kaydee.

In your sun I know I'll drown.
So, I rise when it goes down.
Add all my years, I am so old.
Yet, I'll never feel your cold.
Your punctured skin are signs you're dead
but that to me means I am fed.
I'll lure you in with fake romance.
The lies I'll tell, you'll take a chance.
Allaying your fears, I'll promise you years.
Then, muffled screams that no one hears.
So what you see as silver and gold
in reality, a death so cold.

Poetry by Kaydee.

You stopped to say hey,
but then you must,
you were with friends
so you just,
what?
You must what?

We chatted before,
no friends,
lust?
What?
You lust what?

You can't be true to you!
So what of me?
Disgust or lust?

Poetry by Kaydee.

I can't believe I bought them.
Is this the top scoop?
I've entered a raffle for
pea & ham soup.
I can't even eat it,
I'm vegetarian you see.
Won't you just change it to
tomato for me?

I don't mind the peas,
It's the ham that's no good.
They slaughter those piggies
screaming, covered in blood.
Eyes bulging, their throats cut.
It's really not nice.
There's so much more to choose from,
not just cakes made of rice.

Have you seen how they nugget,
crispy goujons and breast?
They've found faeces and gristle
in a food safety test.
So don't think that these people
have your interests at best.
Look it up, do your research
and I'll give it a rest!

Poetry by Kaydee.

(Part 1, The Engagement)

Draw blood, draw blood for me.
Not with a crayon, do it with a knife.
Show me that you mean it, you need me in your life.
Tell me that you love me and need me always near.
Surrender all suggestion, your purpose and your fear.

(Part 2, The Controller)

Why, that's a lovely dress but why you wear it here?
I'm sitting with friends, we're trying to have a beer.
You make me ******* mental and I know, you know!
Now ring a ******* taxi, get in it and just go!

(Part 3, The Victim)

Hey baby baby, I missed you so tonight.
You know how I hate it when we
fight.
You don't know why you make me mad
and then you'll cry like I've done
bad.
You need to work out what you
want
but don't dare tell me that we're through.
I haven't done a single thing and all
this **** is down to you.

Poetry by Kaydee.

I'm here.
You lost your way kid
and I can't see you no more.
Did the lights go out?
Did the mist decend?
You lost your way kid
and I can't see you no more.

The light's back on
and the mist has gone
. . . and I'm here,
so I can see you once more.
I'm here kid.

Poetry by Kaydee.

Time to leave these ******* behind
and delete them all from my mind.
All had gone except for one.
He was the worst for hanging on.
He should have been just like the rest,
who didn't like how I was dressed.
Not to mention my high heeled shoes,
well I don't care, It's them who lose.
I'll need to find a brand new friend,
not like these who all pretend.
One who'd say "I don't care, do what you do.
I'll put the kettle on, you fancy a brew?"

Promise me, my flesh you'll place
'neath a fledgling willow tree.
And as it grows toward blue sky,
It's in its grace you'll hear me cry.
Laden with the heaviest fears,
resembling, reflecting
my darkest years.

A fragile bone was once my arm,
so likened to the willows charm.
It's branches delicate,
could ne'er do harm.
It's soft and fluffy hand like bud,
encased in skin, the willow's wood.

Hold its hand at branches end.
My message, a vibration,
to you I'll send.
Until the death of said willow tree,
reminding you . . . . .
. . . . . . always of me.

Poetry by Kaydee.

You've been the roof above my my head.
You've been the pillow on my bed.
The bubbles in my bath, the tonic to my wrath.
All this you were and this you still are.
You could've escaped, you could've gone far.
You're the first to call, you make my problems small.
Just one thing though!
You still call me Paul.

Poetry by Kaydee.

Oh ****.
Oh, oh, it didn't work did it?
Why?
Why didn't it work?
I can't see!
I have blood in my eyes, my hands.

Oh ****.
It didn't work did it?
The plastic bag!
****!
The plastic bag!
****,
****,
Ff cck ckk err
err
(sigh)

Poetry by Kaydee
(**** it Kaydee! Just **** it! That's it!)

With our extremities entwined
two pairs of digits, stroke in kind.
One pair, painted.
The other, dirt.
One of us delicate.
The other, dirt.

A soft and fragrant anticipation
succumbs to an accrid and earthy
magnetic like hold. . .
Hold. . .
Hold. . .
Thankyou Sweetheart,
you were great.
I'm going,
are you *******?

Poetry by Kaydee.

Leave my Nan out in the rain, it'll be right.
She's having veg later with some meat, on a bone but meat.
No gravy, she's too lazy. She will not thread it.

So what do you think? Shall we fold it the other way?
Do it tonight, it won't be today and not quite black but definitely not grey.

If it smells like cheese, just wear one and keep one eye open!
Then, we may even finish third.
Remember, listen for the sound.
It's crucial, like a twenty pence piece.

Dust! Always dust. Grams and ounces of the dustiest dust.
Never before six and never after six.
Just continuous with no bends, bubbles or any of that material you really like.

Because when he'd finished speaking (The Italian) I didn't understand a ******* word of it!

"Sorry, I don't speak Italian", shrugged my shoulders, did that thing you do with your bottom lip and ****** off.

THE END
(FINITO)

My Mum has five kids
and first one was Paul.
Oh look it's a boy so
we'll give him a ball.
The second was Ste,
a year younger than me.
Then there was Wayne
and oh what a pain!
Now the fourth was a girl
and so her hair we'll curl.
The fifth, it was Gary
and the last one she'll carry.
So four will wear blue,
it's just what you do.

Did nobody check if
this **** is true?
I'll prove this is wrong
when I show you my thong.
You see, I prefer lace
and blush on my face.

But seriously though,
these rules are so dumb.
How the ****
will I tell my Mum.
For twenty five years
I hid it away.
Where do I start
and what do I say?
I showed her my nails,
I'd painted them red,
My Sister piped up
"Are you off yer head"

So the best thing to do
is just show her it's you.
With a smile on my face,
she'll see that it's true.

Poetry by Kaydee. ❤

Flicking through your magazine,
you want that perfect face.
Put it on your credit card,
become the perfect Wife.
May as well go the extra mile,
book yourself in for a new hairstyle.
Get your nails done,
you might as well.
Something bright
so your friends can tell.

What did it all cost?
You went too far but at least you
look like your favourite star.

After all, let's have no doubt.
To look like this is what
life's about.

Isn't it??

Poetry by Kaydee.

The opening night,
in front of packed house.
The story, a fight,
between a cat and a mouse.
The cat with her guile and
the mouse, all the while.
Powers up a ******' chainsaw
with a knowing wry smile.

So never bet against the mouse
with either money or your house
because the crafty **** takers
have slashed the odds at bookmakers
as to what's in the pies
at the new high street bakers.

Poetry by Kaydee.

So humble
and so demure.
Yet . . . . . . .
. . . . you still freak me the ****
out with everything you do.

You amaze me just so
you'll absorb me, I know.
Then we'll both become one.

I've been erased,
now (I'm) no-one.

Poetry by Kaydee.

Amazing how their memory fades.
Leaving victims, in their hands
the bloodied blades.
Amazing how they forget their ills.
In the hands of the dead,
a bottle of pills.
Sitting red faced yet silent at the wake.
Lies a blue faced victim
of the life you did take.

In violence
you used your hands for years.
In desperation
they used their hands one time.

Is this how you imagined
you'd pay for your crime.

Poetry by Kaydee.

Stood in the doorway,
a delivery guy.
A warm buttery mirage,
reflects in my eye.
A yellow bouquet,
this girls favourite treat.
So lovely, it's beauty knocks
me off my feet.
A spray in the background
of lilac, well matched.
A card with a ribbon and
message attached.
I lift it to read it,
what does it say?

To Sara, Happy Birthday
and have a great day.

Poetry by Kaydee.

Can't sleep for thinkin'
Can't wake for drinkin'
this place that I live in
to expensive to be in.

I tried just a taste
but that wasn't enough.
If I don't stop it now
I'll be back livin' rough.

Over populated streets at night.
For a doorway to sleep in
I'll have to fight and
hide under a blanket
until it gets light.

and repeat verse 3

Kaydee.

I've repainted the wall
and dusted the shelf
as very soon I will become
myself.

I've given back the cow
and I've returned the lamb
in preparation for becoming
who I am.

I've made an alliance with
the fleeing refugee
hoping I find peace as I
turn into me.

So im putting many ghosts to bed
before leaving this body,
escaping this head.

Kaydee.

My Pandora's box, nailed shut, known as the FEAR.
I can't look at the box, it is FEAR.
FEAR itself.
A good day today but my fragile mind has seen the box, the FEAR.

Face the FEAR, **** the FEAR.
Face the FEAR, **** the ****** FEAR.

The apprehension, the box, the FEAR.
**** the FEAR, **** the ****** FEAR.

Oh, the untold, the box, the FEAR.
**** the FEAR, **** the ****** FEAR.

But for you, not one ****** tear.
Tell anyone you read this poem and
I'll ****** **** you!

Kaydee, confidence growing.
Kaydee, feeling bold.
Kaydee, the story untold.

Poetry by Kaydee.

I've taken my sorrows
& buried them deep,
The things like my laughter
I'm trying to keep,
but things like my sadness,
they all need to go.
My privacy took so
now they all know,

Denied, denied and my God I tried,
Each time that I asked,
they all ******* lied,
All that I did and all that I do,
Destruction, a gift was to me
and from you,

With this gold ring,
I take your life.
Into your back,
I put my knife.
You wouldn't listen and
you were my bride,
You weren't by my side,
it was then that I died.

I feel like a ghost,
unable to feel,
I don't know who's fake,
I don't know who's real,
Unable to trust who's
*******,
I can't make new friends
when I feel like this,
Vulnerable and insecure,
I stay inside and lock my door,
This isn't life,
not for me I'm sure,
I cannot take this anymore.

Poetry from my dead heart
by Kaydee.

Where is it that you find your wonder?
'neath the rainclouds with pitchfork
collecting lightning,
in thunder?
******* is king,
Ecstasy queen.
Phet is my thing
with morning caffeine.
Six days and five nights,
the things that I've seen.
The rabbits and spiders
in the *** noodle canteen.

Where is it that you find your wonder?
'neath the sun with secateurs
collecting the fruits
of agriculture.
Health is king,
love is queen.
In this new life,
sober this spring.

Poetry by Kaydee.

Under the birthstones
in the carcass yard
is where the flesh tombs lie.
Decomposing for three long years.
Eradicating memories,
dreams and fears.
Becoming next, the black gloop
treacle of putrification.
Now bones, just old bones
is the remain of what was once,
a spirit with a name.

Poetry by Kaydee.

So there we were.
You like it, you want it.
You've got to say you'll wear it.
You've got to swear you'll live it
and then I can be you.

So here we are.
There's good news
and there's bad news.
I can breathe
and you can walk in my shoes.
So everything you ever wished for
is now all yours forever.

Poetry by Kaydee

When we first met you re-lit the flame inside my heart.
You gave me a need to survive and I never thought we'd part.
But this world is too ugly for me
to bear
and I don't want you to think that I didn't care.
So I wrote you this poem to explain to you why.
It wasn't anything you did and I don't want you to cry.
I'm sure you'll find a new home to stay where they'll give you your
food and a place to play.
Finally, try not to **** too many birds or you and I will be having words.
I'll be watching you from in the skies and every time it rains, that'll be the tears falling from my eyes.

Love from Mummy.

Poetry by Kaydee.

Be good, be bad.
Have things, have none.
Give love, taste love.
Feel power, share the wealth.
Keep every penny all to yourself.
Learn the game, change your name.
Watch the sky and never cry.

But remember this, when you are dead.
All these words, I never said.
You were never here, I was never there.
Ask anyone, see if they care.

. . . and now you're dust and time has past.
Did you come first or were you last?

Poetry by Kaydee.