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What’s the difference? The first time, this time?
Well,
The first time, it was all I could see - her body, pulsing before me,
I was there,
When she fell,
I was alone,
And I had to leave before I knew she’d be okay

This time, I wasn’t right there - I mean, I was close
But all I heard was the crash and then my own voice I think,
Screaming,
No, no, oh my god

Both times, there was the numbness,
The need to do something useful.
The first time, it was staying by her
The second time, it was running, finding the street names,
Standing by the caller & making sure people would come to help them
But I couldn’t help them

Both times, I was scared by how calm I was in the moment -
I didn’t cry,
I didn’t break down.
I was functional, I think,
I could still think

The first time, I was slow, walking home
I had someone to blame,
Convinced myself we had been abandoned & she was there for longer than she could have been,
But I have no way of proving that

The second time.
I feel strange.
I don’t know what I feel.
Walking home was a mess of emotions,
Every car that passes, a challenger approaching,
Engines, roaring, raring, raging, ready, oh I am so ready,
BRING IT ON!
Headlights taunting, flashing,
And hard footsteps, running, stomping,
And finally reaching the front gate, feeling nothing.

And I still don’t know if they’re okay.
The panicked dissociation around watching someone get hurt.
Dysphoria, what does it feel like?
They sigh, trying to find a single sentence for years of caged silence.

Identity: Female
Stuck in the wrong way
To me it’s a sense of nothing will ever be right
The feeling of being in extreme danger
Like you’re about to die

Identity: Male
All I can say is
This isn’t me
The feeling is a long and windy explanation of
Disassociation
There are things about me that I don’t associate with myself
And it’s weird and confusing
When I become aware of them

Identity: ****. A drag queen? Trans fluid.
Dysphoria...
It's a lot like,
Anger,
Betrayal,
An itch
Like a really itchy sweater,
You can’t take it off
And the longer you have to wear it the worse it gets
You start to hate yourself because
You’re the one that put the sweater on in the first place

They say we are ill
Broken
“******”
“***”
“Butch”

It’s not correct

When they say it’s their right to say those
That’s when I get mad

If there is no way to make the mind conform to the body
You must make the body conform to the mind

If they think it’s their right to tell other people that their identity is wrong,
Then they are ill and broken
They have no f**king clue
And I know,
I can’t tell them they’re wrong
Without telling them why
But I realize
Explaining this is futile
With closed minded people

Bathrooms need to change, Health care needs to change, Identification needs to change
People are forced to “pick one”
Trans-phobia shouldn’t be tolerated
Mental health care shouldn’t be because it’s a “defect”
Social pressure, Internalized oppression, Abuse,
Shouldn’t
Be
Tolerated
Politicians have got it the wrong way around
One in two transgender persons have experienced ****** assault
One. In. Two.
They say, “We don’t want men undercover spying on our women and children”
You think they are in there to spy or ****?
Name more than two cases in the last 25 years
Where a transgender person has sexually abused a woman in the ladies bathroom
You can’t
But give me five minutes, and I can come up with five to eight names of transgender people
That have been assaulted in bathrooms since 2019 started

But our Pride cannot be destroyed
It’s our strength
A feeling of belonging
A belief that we can change this

We are not alone.

We Are Not Alone.

YOU ARE NOT ALONE.
This is a poem written from the words of transgender people in my school. It is written for all who don’t understand who we are and all who wish to be understood. Please listen.
I love all of  my family
As I always have since birth
Problem is my family has
And may always see me as a Girl

My mom remembers fondly
How I used to love dressing up in pink
But now it seems to bother me,
Like my voice, when I think and speak

I’ve always been a tomBoy
In very single fond memory
I’ve hated being Sister, Small, a Girl, or Mallory
Why can’t it leave Me be

So please, I’m not your Daughter, not one of your Ladies, Sis or Girlfriend
I’m not trying to **** your loved one
Just trying to help you recognize Him
Dead name.... ughhhhhhhhhh
Welp
My ears hurt,
My fingers hurt,
My nose is running,
My toes are numb.
It.
Is.
COLD!
i cant explain that homophobia is ripping holes through my sweaters and clothes and i am shivering.

the whistling wind whispering in my ear keeps telling me that my love is not authentic.
no, my sexuality is not your aesthetic.

but the whispering starts roaring.
the swarming hatred speeches of rain starts pouring from clouds of ignorance.

venomous lightning that will soon strike down.
and when it does, the venom will soon take over my body.
and shatter my heart.

cause my umbrella cannot contain this bad weather.
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