my body is a topic that trails the mouths of a family at dinner
it is the trail of saliva that leaves shortly after breaking a heated kiss
always leaving a bitter taste

but when did you taste me?
when did I crawl into your mouth full of cavities?

existing as I am cements chains in people's root canals
a topic for discussion
my life to debate
trans people being the forefront
it is so inconvenient and sinful
and yet its the flavor on their seething lips

kissing one another trailing more saliva
knowingly trading hate with ones mind and lips
integrating more citizens and normalizing their behavior

transphobia is the topic for discussion

body in a rage
blood bubbles rummaging
horns begin to make an entertrance
howls of shrieking agony
veins shattering
with pupils dilated and saliva trailing down my crimson stained lips
your best bet is to run.
get the **** away from me.

pieces of my puzzle are aligning
trauma and enlightenment go well together
it seems as though once you've hit rock bottom
the very top feels like heaven

a walking contradiction
how do you go from wanting to die
to living your life with authenticity

pieces fitting in shapes never seen before
pieces shifting sizes finishing the next assignment

a life on hold
holds very little to me

finishing my next task is today
but what is for tomorrow?
craving more isn't selfish
it's fulfilling
questions make me contemplative
unable to sleep at night
thoughts running for more
the adrenaline keeping me alive

pieces of my puzzle can break apart
pieces deceive me and don't actually fit
it is a lesson to look more closely

a piece has appeared
it's unclear where it goes
where it starts
where it ends
it will belong in due time

my body is simply not conventional
to the clothes I wear
there are dips and hills plastered on my figure
hanes doesn't take into account
my weight or my height
so pulling up the waistband
drills the cotton into my skin
with no room to breathe
but I've gotten comfortable

my body is not conventional
to the clothes I wear
the hunch back of Notre Dame meets
a protruding belly that widens my waist
when I wear shirts
fabric strangles my hips
displaying my grotesque body
but I've gotten comfortable

my body is not conventional
to the clothes I wear
aged binders do their best
pools of skin are dipping out the sides
my ribs ache and it's hard to ignore
when my body wails a cracking chaos
pain and overstimulation have crept into dreams
but I've gotten comfortable

my body is not conventional
to the clothes I wear
my body is not conventional
but it doesn't bring despair
my body is not conventional
and you can't begin to understand it
because it's too crippling to bear
it's staggering to peep into a mirror
seeing my being labeled unpleasant
with the unnerving urge to rip my eyes out
and splatter my blood on the glass
why don't I just break down and sit there
it's heavy to carry my weight and be hyperaware
it's easy to not care and maybe I'd take that route
but I'm not conventional
so I'm taking another way downstairs

what makes you feel granted
manhandling my memories
stirring up my experience
diagnosing with no credentials
gaslighting feelings of fear
forcing to question what happened
mind entering a storm
chaos now runs free roam
flashbacks and dreams
dialogue and overwhelming voices
speaking over another
talking me into a box
leaving me there alone
he pulls the chain around it
and imprisons me with a lock

my teeth chatter when I’m anxious
body starts to shake
hands begin to clench
skin feels wave of heat
and I start to feel faint
stomach tells me I’m in danger
heart throbbing in concert with a clock
my face emotionless and stale
as I try to mask what puts me in more danger
of not feeling collected and vulnerable
trusted if I break a sweat they’ll see
make a sudden movement and touch
touch my soft skin marked with scars
I question which body part is next
as I sit in a freezing shock
that limits my movement
ability to think
and speak
as hands go and *****
I scream so loud
but nobody hears me
I am silent
lips unmoved
internal thoughts crying
there is so much to say
but I can’t get myself to speak
and I want those ***** hands off
but I can’t seem to move
body paralyzed
I start unpacking this to the darkness
never to be opened for my safety
throwing away the feelings
destroying what it felt like
is better than keeping it alive
so please
don’t touch me like that

little me, why so sorrow?
what makes you disconnect?

seeing your body in pictures
sent shivers down your neck
the rhythmic beating
pounding as an alarm
body restless
when will you get rest then?

little me, you waited quite a while
family's opinions turned vile
it didn't matter much
you never connected
only as much as
a charger is to phone

escapism buried her
when he could be online
reversing roles and affirming yourself
only gained so much self help
a tool to be unlocked

little me, you had blocks in front of you
you played with them as trial
until they weren't meanwhile
so what did it mean to you?
what did you learn?
how did you grow?
what did you learn?

little me, you're too young to understand
one day you'll find who I am
we've always been together
tight knit and forever
don't lose the game of cards  
unless you want your graveyard

ten minutes.
sitting with presley
contemplating
tearing up
not happy
but not in despair
two cold bodies
giving one another
what they need
one shivering
one perpetually alone
three minutes.
i am far
but on the way
thoughts being guides
two minutes.
time is gone
one minute.
i'm more of an adult

I engage in transness
but with no emphasis on transition
I am not one to the other
I am on a continuum that can't be defined
to male or female
if I opened up on what parts define me
you'd be in for a while
my transness is not fixed
my transness is evergrowing and bountiful
it doesn't stop at male or female
I've passed what it means to be trans
I've ran the marathon
and won at the finish line
transness has it's own path
not what cisgender people decide
I live in a revelation of social control
by what's under inclusivity
the performance of transitioning is over
I engage in transness
and I exist with no finish line

Driving on the road every day is how I connect and see those in my community. In a given month, I pass by thousands of cars. Why is it that I feel the most alone in transit to my destinations?

Driving recklessly, driving with suicidal intent, driving under the influence are all acts of violence. How can I make these same people care about themselves and the people in their life if they are unforgiving in weapons of destruction?

I ask those to take "sonder" into their commute. Do you see the man 300 feet away in the car with his wife and children? Do you see the breast cancer survivor in the pink car with their eldest daughter? Do you see the bicyclist doing their daily commute? Do you see their life outside of their commute— their love, their hobbies, their favorite books and songs, and their trauma?

We should all hold space and reflect when in passing. To be mindful and present, we are equally human, with drive and something that drives us. We need to start giving a ****.

How are we supposed to care for one another when all that surrounds us are displays of violence? It’s more than the overt displays—recklessness and abuse towards ourselves or others, hate crimes, police brutality, genocide, institutions of slavery.

When certain events enter into the collective consciousness, because we are forced to witness them; these acts tend to remind us we are disenfranchised. We are silenced. We are powerless. Until we mobilize and resist in acts of love.

Let me remind whoever is reading this: we criminalize and demonize those who give sanctuary, those who educate and speak their truth, those who feed the unhoused, those who do work on the ground, and those involved in policy.

We think little of those with degrees, fixations, and aspirations dealing in social justice, social studies, and sciences. To commemorate and value everyone as a human being is far more important than aspiring to become the next billionaire.

I don’t wake up and dream about wealth. I dream about people feeling safe and having resources on hand if they ever encounter a crisis. I dream about others committing to mutual aid and bartering practices as a way to help one another but also resist. I dream about shutting off our devices because we can call out unhelpful discourse and disinformation. I dream about others having a shared trait to discuss than to find every reason to think they’re so different.

I think I understand what finding community means. Though I haven’t talked to enough people, I can envision community as reaching over to the next person and actively hearing them, seeing them, and being there how you can. Community is being heard, community is finding love in places you thought you couldn’t, and it’s giving a ****.

You are quick to question but
Occupy cisheteronormativity mindlessly
Unprepared for queer identities

Assuming I lack knowing of myself
Reshuffling the same deck of cards
Engaging in a play of poker with hatred

Subjected to foul treatment
The words you spat
Unsolicited and unflattering
Chasing my mind endlessly
Kidnapping me hostage

I have been coated in sweltering biohazards
Nevermore to find protection and healing

To see another day seems impossible
If my own blood casts me away
Malevolence becoming motherly
Eliminating my mental health
,

Its those who think they are greater
Trailblazing a performative show
Sabotaging an already discriminated space

To go another day with your words
Itching down into my skin
****** becoming friendly
Envisioning how I'd feel left alone


From the moment you open your mouth
Orchestrating emotions like a ballad
Reconsolidating the toxic bond with binary

Can't seem to wake you up
Having to constantly do the work for you
And what am I left with
Naive justification and selfish excuses
Gravitate your energy into doing better
Exploitation is your entertainment

Identity plays a big role in my everyday life.
My identity allows me to be prideful.
My identity teaches me about relationships and the sincerity of people.
My identity is like a tutor. If I wasn’t the way I am, I would be very ignorant, and I still learn new things everyday.
My identity makes me feel uncomfortable with my body.
My identity urges me to do things that would be weird, and let’s me be unique from everyone else around me.
My identity sometimes feels like a chore. My identity is a series of trials and tribulations.
My identity has taught me more about myself than anyone could even attempt. My identity has put me at risk.
My identity has led me to be a victim of ****** assault.
My identity is something that is sensitive and dear to me.
My identity doesn’t owe anyone an explanation.

i've never felt
so alive
experiencing the full range of human emotion

this is what it means to be human
what it feels to breathe without condition
and shackles to their needs
conservation of energy
preservation of self
outcomes fulfillment

residual ties out of desperate attempts at connection
burning those same bridges out of fear
i'm known
not understood
used as a tool from my own overextended hand
not understanding
people can't be used as distractions
finding the flaws in repeated dynamics
where do they **** up
but where do i contribute
is the better question
how am i the problem.
i am the problem
and now, how do i resolve this
time will offer it's lesson again
let me catch up
i'm still doing my homework

he made me notice today
while we were driving home
that i broke the cycle.

he made me realize today
that i am different
and setting myself up for a good life.

he made me go in awe today
that i have become the confident young man
he always wanted me to be.

i broke the cycle of abuse
that was created to make me fail
and i have overcame it so fiercely.

never thought you'd be mine
here i am pulling on your strings
playing your melodies
while the texture plays me a memory

a lost boy running for his life
in the forest overrun
clones of himself can't escape
for he is his own greatest enemy

a boy with no features
no features of a boy
or what society deems
a boy with hairless skin
and effeminate lips
a boy with no regard to how high
the decibels of his voice was
a boy who ran on his feet while withering his chest
a boy who couldn't always take in deep breaths
a boy who chose how big or how small he wanted to show the world his ***** was
a boy who didn't exactly fit the narrative
a boy nonetheless

but is it now that i am a man?
is it now that when i touch the hair on my face, it makes me he?
is it the voice i desperately tried to craft? or is it my piece of clothing that binds the skin, and bone of my body?
is it my shoes and how they're bigger and longer? maybe it's my laugh and smile that gives it away.
maybe it's nothing at all.
and i'm deemed a man for a selfish binary who doesn't care about my traumatic experiences being hunted by my own mind.

she is blind to her crashing disaster.
she'll grant me with an immunity called privilege.
immunity from being recognized as a woman, and being treated as such by code.

but at least my ****** hair is tangible.

when i look at you
it fills the despondent void
of what i didn't have

when i look at you
it fills space to love harder
needed from the past

when i look at you
i am full of happiness
no longer helpless

when i look at you
there's a kid celebrating
those victories fought

he is a spirit
who goes to rest knowingly
that you avenged him

Battling ignorance
Is putting a knife to my throat
One mistaken word
I hold the danger to be assaulted
As a result the blade slits me open


Battling ignorance
Can be withdrawing the knife
When people digest
That I am a human
And they respect me

Living was a constant battle
My thoughts told me I was worthless.
Stupid and unloved.
People’s actions left an impact on me
My emotions left neglected.
Unhealthy coping mechanisms.
Filled my days with ease

music never left me alone
sound has never failed to make me feel
dynamics and bass never once left me
wavelengths rushing through a shallow canal
caused for greater clarity and prosperity
had i not had the vibrations rummaging through my ears
i ought of lost my mind
the reality is that i am alone
and noise protects my sanity
it keeps my mind full
to push aside mental antics
and keep myself stuffed of ideas
music never stopped my imagination
on the days i wanted to die
music kept me in a stagnant state
that allowed me to prevent harm
without the loving melodic voices
i would have stripped someones throat out
music gives me a soul
and a shoulder to lean on
when the demons come chasing after me

uncommon grows normal
routine with procedure
getaways, paradise, heaven
bare, void, blank
air occupies what was
take afoot inside
think comfort, warmth
ignited with flames
books of wisdom
books of happy
books of reflection
raveled with devouring famine
scorching heat searing
the leather casing
the thin sheets
the purpose of it all
all that's left
crumbled cracking at the seams
indistinguisable at corners
words left legible
smack dab middle
with colors reminiscent
pouring white milk
into black coffee
only this time
an odor intoxicating as gasoline

On the way to make noise for DC to hear,
I imagined bridging solidarity to all illegal occupations.
We took it from Palestine, across the globe, and everyone had a role.
Mine was in calling to action, but my invisibility was okay.
The disrupters were loud at the front, protecting others behind them. I heard chanting, culture, chatter, and I saw the sweat, the drive that drilled people to be there.
More and more will show up in these times, and we protect us, we are better together.
There will not be singular revolutionaries; it is the movement in masses of people which becomes revolution.

I felt at peace and I fell asleep knowing this reality will be true; we will witness a free Palestine.

what is life
what am I doing
to complain of doing the same but make no push to do different
it feels miserable that my life is a broken record on repeat
bottles of water in my room judge
so does all the food
they watch as I suffer in silence
my head feels like it's swelling with emotions unreleased
it's so heavy to pick up
I rather rest in bed
with a body already so restless
sleep does nothing for it
I feel like ****
and I can't escape this room
suffocating by the binds of guidelines
drowning in uncomfort of my home
I barely bathe
three times a week if lucky
I hold in my *** because I don't like the way my ***** hits the water
I pinch my ears so I don't have to hear
I jab earphones in so I feel invisible when I leave my room to eat
I blast music so it deafens the depressing state of my reality
the only peace I feel
is when I drift into sleep
only then my reality becomes something more manageable
so why shouldn't I sleep forever?

The sidewalks the grass the dirt and The porcelain glass

Everyday I look past
To the left and to right I see cars pass

Sky blooms like a galaxy
Yet I'm walking forward

Cracks in the road with roadkill
And the only thing I see ahead of me
is a building

Light in it's halls that I walk in
Silent in these hours

past in time
too unaware
before looking
down on
myself

now in time
crystal clear
bias unbound
conclusions come
I’m faulty
of something I
could correct

self reflection
to be aware
keeps me
up at night
playing back
events in time
I could’ve
done right

Treacherous smiles and laughs
Displayed like a show
For everyone to see
What everyone doesn’t know
Is how insizeable you treat me  

Ghastly memories send shivers down my spine
Remembering how your warmth felt
When you’d cuddle me
And at the next you’re threatening me

A knife held in your hands
I cried helplessly
Searching for solutions so I’ll be okay
But I end up hurt and mislead by you

Why did you leave such a burn on my memory?
Why did you do this to me?
Now after all these years, you sit feet away from me as if you’ve done no wrong
And it makes me want to *****.

I am summoned into court
The month of September
Being transgender is the trial to be fought
The jury doesn't know how to handle the situation
And nothing is fought

I am summoned months later
The year of 2016
Being transgender is why I'm there
The jury hasn't overcame their pain
And no solution to the chain

Years later I am summoned to court
A stage in my life I couldn't ever see
Being transgender is the reason
The jury has come to an agreement
That it's okay to ease in

Dear mom,

You’re not perfect
I know you never will be
Maybe I hold you too high a standard
That your legs and arms can’t reach
Maybe I hold grudges I shouldn’t
And I know that makes you feel upset
I have a hard time forgetting
But I do forgive
I’m not perfect
And you know I never will be

You’re my mom
Sometimes I act like you’re not
I’m guilty of spilling words of regret
I’m guilty just as you are of mistakes
I’m your son
Sometimes you acted like I’m not
You’re guilty of intolerance
You’re guilty just as I am of mistakes

Words have escaped our lips
We both know shouldn’t have been said
They lay in the past
With pain and regret
They’ve sprouted into something better
A feeling and movement of love
To conquer those bad vibrancies

It doesn’t take 24 hours to restore a wound
Yet I see your love through your actions
Wrapping itself on my scars
Eagerly wanting them to heal
And I hope as time passes you see me Walk through the pathway you’ve started to build


Often, we take one step forward and Two steps back
But we are always improving from the person we were yesterday
Hence progress that wasn’t always there
And I’m appreciative of the energy you set forth into me

Thank you.

Hit me with your car
So i can pave my way
Into breaking down
What it means to exist
In a world so ruthless
I can't experience fragility

Verbally abuse me
So i can help you understand
You're not free from consequences
In a world that is blind
To teach what family is to friend

Touch my body without consent
So i can show you that you're a fool
For messing with a mind so divine
It can split up your body in twelve
In a world so quiet
You hear their screams

Pin me down and suffocate me
So i can finally escape this madness
With a reason to leave
In a world with no crime
But have you wiped your eyes

Make pretend i don't exist
So i can talk to the toys
They always listen to the words i said
When she didn't
In a world where you are failed
To be loved and felt accepted

Put a knife to my throat
So i can be defenseless
Over a music CD
Still haunts my memory
Like an iPod on repeat
In a world where power dynamics
matter more than being a child in front of a t.v.

running in the hallway of memory
pictures mounted on the walls
bright smiles and entranced fidelity
evolved into nowhere to turn

anxiety refreshes the past
from musical pieces once treasured by a passion so strong
I believed so unbreakable
would later prove me a fool

septic jealously
tangled grabbing
dry eyes and painful tears
destructive wounds
unhealthy affinity
would result in an addiction of abuse

too early to understand
denial and anxiety befriended me
I refused the truth
forgive me that I refused what was better for the both of the us
feeling regret I didn’t take action sooner
too late to change havoc being dealt

three years ahead in time
I wonder where you are
do you still think of me?
after all I’ve caused?
or do you not?
questions roam from time to time
I wonder if yours do too

together we are not innocent in a court of law
both criminals that have been charged
with a love so dangerous
needing to repent

do you remember?
the songs? the touch?
my lips?
our intolerable dependency?

I’m reaching out to you
in vast space of once was
tears once cried
tell their own story

it amazes me to come back
to the pieces of art that transcended
from my own mind
it's not comparable to the quiet
the lack of sound not allowing
for those regular thought processes

i saw a sign that introduced me to
thousands of tall green statues
have been being there before
walking in reminded me how it felt
to be numb and lost
overgrown grass, moss, and insects
took over what was

it's month two going onto three
there hasn't been any sign of people
nobody is out looking for me
the way out is guided with red yarn
it's visible, but impossible to see

having the comfort of silence
the heavy winds accompanied with destructive thunder
replacing my routine of what once was
nature having took over me

did it take me there on purpose?
is there a bigger purpose than what i can see?
was this a defense mechanism to the overcrowding fungus consuming my cerebellum? just how bad was this spore that spread into my lungs?

i underestimated the power of my thoughts, and they breached my sense of self, bringing me back to a place i hadn't thought to see again.

this is my time to test whether or not I am capable in the war of my mind. the fight never ended and i am geared up from recovery.

Who am i
A stranger in the wind
Or a solider in disguise
Sometimes I feel I am both
But lost in what is an identity
Trying to find mine

Pictures can only hold so much
It doesn't mask the difference from a kid to a man,
From aggressive behavior to tame
Nor does it show my inability, and pain.
Looking at him then
Shows immaturity and lack of awareness.
Bound to heavy weight of trauma and insecurity.
Yet not seen resolved
Only to make more involved.
He was and if not
As bad as the one who cut his throat so deep
He couldn't find himself enough to speak.
He would then damage others who never deserved the baggage.

you're a screen.
a glass.
but you fell face first and now you're breaking.
you've always been breaking since early before.
the shards come loose and fall with the dirt.
you're always losing shards.
why are you so cracked.
why can't you be one whole glass, one full screen, maybe with a few scratches but the cracks are too deep and you're falling apart.
stop falling apart.
i don't want you to crack all the way and become destroyed.
you're already cracked enough.
you've been dropped but fixed but dropped one too many times and you need a surgeon to help replace those shards you lost along your journey.

you're very oh so gentle and delicate.
maybe even one more drop can cause you to break completely.

you're such a flower.
so beautiful. but once you start picking at the leaves, it starts to decay. it starts to rot.
you pull off the pedals and mess with the stem, slowly suffering.
pull the flower out from the ground and you're a goner, you don't know how to replant, do you? no, you don't. so you die.

i don't want you to die.
i don't want to lose you.
my flower.
beautiful and powerful but yet so delicate and light.
so easily to be taken to the route of death.

i'm no flower.
i'm just a rock.
not beautiful.
not delicate.
but too rough and scarring.
i hate being a rock.

i break things.
i don't fix much.
i'm a burden.
i'll always be there.
in the corner looking at the flowers, but if i get too close i'll crush you and your beauty, your power.

i've crushed you enough as a rock.

i wish i could change
but i don't get to do anything different it seems like.
just a ******* burden on everything.

There isn't much organization in this newfound structure
The world is misplaced out of its regular orbit.
Sun shines a little less, stars are hidden behind clouds.
My depth perception is perplexed when stepping foot outside.
Intensity blinds my field of vision with saturated apricot
Eyelids squeezing trying to bare the unfamiliarity.
Forced inside for over four weeks,
Air is danger, people a risk.
Unable to roam the streets without protection
Sneeze or cough get berated.
Immunodeficient deserve to be taken seriously
Those at risk aware of the familiarity.
Not the first time around a government fails to protect the health And wellness of those who need it most.
Patience and the discipline to stay at home
May enable freedom and coherence
In a time where you're quarantined within your own thoughts.

my knuckles are bruised from the day before
i am now tense and scared
for tomorrow
another battle
is equal to another day
i have to fight for dominance
when it comes to being safe
for myself
you're not going to win today
i am a soldier
a soldier who's fought great battles
a soldier who's had enough scars
who's fought hard enough
who's fought for things i shouldn't have to
strong soldier
but weak inside
i am not capable to fight against the most violent of battles
you slay my hands
my mind
my mouth
my system
i am your slave
you've won
but i have not yet lost
maybe tomorrow i'll win
but it's the beginning of what will repeat
for ever
every day
365 days
until i let myself go
and lose
but until then i will put up a fight
and fight back harder
i will win against you
i will be victorious
it will be me who's Laughing
it will be when i have come to terms with everything
i won't have to let myself go
when i find my happiness
My strength to fight back
my power is stronger with you
i am winning a battle that is endless
with you
don't die strength
i need you to go on

Uninspired empty and blank
Not satisfied
Creativity is miles away
Where is my hope
My energy my love
Where did it go?

Exhaustion expiration and fatigue
Burn out
Numbness is so close
Where did it get lost in the wind
My energy my love
My passion to pick up a pencil
Draw my hearts content out
Where did it go?

Material possessions
To replace your warmth
You buy me everything
When I just want your heart

inner battles
declare war
strike me
powerful bullets
push me
to dirt
grab me
talk to me
torture consumes
unable to
rest silently

body restive
can’t forget
in dreams
in thought
in heart

torture consumes
until defeat
giving into
the demand

what i bring tomorrow
is never the present version of me
it is the baggage of yesterday and the past of who i am
is what i bring tomorrow.

the past is all i have
to teach me lessons not yet learned
to help me remember whats hidden
to make me better myself for tomorrow.