E is for Emotion
that  overwhelmed me my first day

S is for Stress,
how will my life change?
Will my changes be noticeable?

T is for Tension
I had with my dad
When I first started questioning my gender

R is for reflection,
as I sit in my room
making sure of my feelings

O is for overjoyed most of the time

D is for depression that keeps creeping in

I is for intense dysphoria that's starting to fade

A is for aches and pains that started after a month

L is for life, that I want to live on.

I've always felt
like the black sheep of the family,
isolating myself with a collection of drugs and
probably self destructive behavior.

Take me
apart,
and you'll find a noose fashioned into a heart
tugging at my emotions
while I struggle to find myself in a sea of
vague feelings and LSD fever dreams.

Short fuse,
lit like the fire of a burning heart,
uncontrollable (maybe it feels good?),
yet always regretful in the end.
A stream of "You're useless" and
"you made her how she is"
How could I say that?

The words flash across my screen
in comments of facebook pictures
and news articles.
Why are you still calling HER a he?
How do you think that makes most of us feel?
The fear and uncomfortableness,
like a pink elephant in the room that no one seems to notice
lingers in most of our minds.
Gender has nothing to with
what's between your legs or
how you were born;
but rather, it sits in your mind
dragging along all your insecurities:
you don't even feel safe in your own body.
I am not a person of gender
rather, I'm a blank slate.
To think
her coming out is a publicity stunt
is quite alarming
I have to wonder:
when did that door in your mind close?

My hand clutches a dripping red knife,
in front of me
lays my baby  boy
dead as all hell.
On the table lies a sturdy rope.
I...I had my reasons
I think to myself,
a pool of tears mixes with the blood running out of my only offspring.
More tears leaking off my face as if it were Niagara Falls
He was bullied a lot..
Being highly autistic,
bullies had an easy target, y'know?
He came home sobbing daily,
telling me the principal never did ****.
Well, I called that sonovabitch,
and with no action after two weeks
I decided to take it upon myself.
Sobbing heavily,
I called my son into the kitchen
told him I needed help setting the table.
Its just us here since his dad passed away you know.
That's when it happened.
He turned around,
I forced myself to push in the knife
my eyes bloodshot and welled up with tears
as I hear his last screams
and then he falls silent, collapsing down to the floor,
my breath short gasps of air and I choke on my tears as I struggle to comprehend my actions.
I grab the rope,
tying it in a noose on a steel beam on the ceiling as I stand on a chair
and take one last look at my deed.
I'll see you soon, I love you
stepping off the chair, everything cuts to black.
*I love you

I was born into the age where computers have always been within arms reach,
information flowing faster than the speed of light
and I'm terrified.
We are no longer a free people
our info has been sold,
our souls have been collected in exchange for facebook likes
and shallow popularity.
God lives in our computers
preaching, and casting judgement among others,
while thinking we'll never get caught for posting that picture of 4 am **** rips and white dust spread on the table.

His bed is the ocean
created by tears flowing
from heart ache and abuse,
but also tears of joy
that gently rock him to sleep at night, cradling his every thought, collecting in his head like stars in the sky.
The constellations of his mind forming songs, and poems and god knows what that boy can dream of.