I don’t know if I want T in my veins,
can it break these ******* chains?
Will it make these bleeding scars heal?
Will it make me feel?

Feel okay, feel better,
feel like I swear I’m not under the
weather.
Feel like maybe this is the way I’m
meant to live.

But maybe this just isn’t for me.
Maybe this life is a bundle of lies,
a bundle of feelings on *******
and electrocuting itself
like a pile of live wires in the rain.

Maybe by following my heart,
I’m actually doing the wrong thing
but the wrong thing isn’t the wrong thing
like the right thing isn’t the right.

The right and wrong do not exist
and my therapist
is running out of ways to tell me that
it’s okay
that it’s okay to feel this way.

That it’s okay to inject a synthetic hormone
into my bloodstream,
my muscle mass,
to make my mental self image
match my outward projection of self.

And in a harmless act,
one of my best friends tells me:
you know, Dani it’s funny.
I wear push up bras,
and you wear
binders.

But at the end of the day,
this body is still my ******* cage.

Pin me up with your ***** mind
accuse me of the worst of crimes
confess to me your deepest sins
snowflakes on bare skin
something like the slightest touch
isn’t even that much.

Hold me down with your ***** mind
be sure to fake the signs
grab my hand and we’ll run
close our eyes to see the sun
something like the slightest touch
it might just be enough.

I’m a figment of your mind,
constantly set free at night.

Show me off in your ***** mind
I know you’re one of a kind
take me away from here
quiet all of my fears
something like the slightest touch
will it ever be enough?

Hold me up in your ***** mind
you’re a diamond in the rough to find
I don’t know what you’ve got in store,
hopefully I’ll find more.
Something like the slightest touch,
it’s finally enough.

I’m a figment of your mind,
constantly set free at night.

Time is not a concept,
it’s a preconception
created by people that have never felt
love.

Or, so I always believed.

Now, I sit awake every night
thinking about our expiration date,
the day to which we
meet a bitter demise.

A demise devised by
a whole world around us,
a world that will
never see the shrink sticker stuck.

The ticking won’t stop
on the time bomb of us,
as we leap, crawl, roll, dart
to our expiration date.

We can’t stop rolling,
faster down this path
to a little place that
will be our personal hell.

A hell that we believe in,
a hell that he is counting on,
a hell that hath its fury,
a hell that I am dreading.

Yet, everyday I take your hand,
kiss your fingers,
caress your lips,
and stare at the brilliance that is your eyes

in an attempt to forget
our expiration
date.

Close your eyes
and don’t look back.
Jump in and
don’t look at
anything that was
ever behind you.
Let go of whatever
poorly defined you.

You are more than
what they say.
You are a shooting star
in a beautiful way.
Remember anything
that makes you smile.
In the end,
it’ll be worth your while.

Be the risk of your dreams
be the person you need.
Never let go of who you want to be.
Hold on tight
and throw glitter in the air.

Take a leap of faith
before they cut you down.
Never pass a chance
to always love yourself.
Look into your lover’s eyes
like it’s the first time you meet them.
Invite a stranger inside,
forget the fear that resides in them.

Wake up every day
and recreate yourself.
Always aim
to make yourself proud.

Be the risk of your dreams,
be the person you need.
Never let go of who you want to be.
Hold on tight
and throw glitter in the air.

Just try this, swallow it down
we think this one will work for you this time.
This ******* experiment will be my demise.
They say cover it up, silence your cries

It’s supposed to get better, it’s supposed to make me feel fine.
It’s supposed to be less per day than nine.
My hands shake because of voices in my head.
Yeah, I went loopy for a while; I was to be gone instead.

It’s a contest for infinity;
survival of the fittest has beaten me.
And I can’t stand on my own two feet and
you’re my crutch so please help me stand
Help me stand

The bright lights shine in my face
The smell of sterile office invades my brain
How have you been and how do you feel
Are questions that I would rather ****.

It’s a tragedy to be so young and so sad
To not know what’s so wrong in my head
They speak in big words and hushed tones
I need to find out on my own.

It’s a contest for infinity
survival of the fittest has beaten me
And I can’t stand on my own two feet and
You’re my crutch so please help me stand.
Help me stand

You’re my crutch so please help me stand

I hit the headrest of my friend’s car
more than the pillow on my bed
as the traffic light turns
from yellow to red.

I remember what you said about
The eagle and the **** that are
Coming down at me.
You said forget about the words in your head.

You said you were proud of me
That was enough to get me on my feet
You said you were proud of me
that was enough to make me happy.

“You can’t get what I don’t have,”
And everything in between.
It gets better but it doesn’t get easier
You have to make sense of what it means

They say it’s darkest before the dawn
But the daylight haunts you before it’s gone
I know I’ve got you to get me through
The night that feels so long.

There’s not enough time in a day
to tell you how much I’m really grateful for you.
How you kept me alive
and how you taught me to turn the tides.

You’re up in that big window,
out of sight and out of mind
Everybody says this isn’t
supposed to be right.
And there’s this big dance tonight.

My name isn’t on the list,
I’m just looking for that kiss,
so take my hand and seize the sin
from my lips.

We’re a modern Romeo and Juliet,
stuck like Montague’s and Capulet’s.
Masked opportunities arise
to catch you out of nowhere and make you mine.

What exactly is a name?
I can’t help but to refrain
but a rose by any other name
would still smell the same.
Our parents are so ****** deranged.

There’s a bloodbath in the streets.
I watch my best friend die on his knees.
I’ll avenge his death, you’ll fake yours.
To my belief, I’ve settled the score.

We’re a modern Romeo and Juliet,
stuck like Montague’s and Capulet’s.
Masked opportunities arise
to catch you out of nowhere and make you mine.

You drink the poison,
I’ll take a dagger to my heart.
Maybe then they’ll realize,
they were wrong from the start.

We’re a modern Romeo and Juliet,
stuck like Montague’s and Capulet’s.
Masked opportunities arise
to catch you out of nowhere and make you mine.

Never was a story of more woe
than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

You talk about pills.
The right combination,
Down them so easy,
Death comes so quickly.

You talk about razors.
The way they glide across your skin,
How much you love the pain,
The deadly scars
the cold metal leaves behind.

You talk about happiness,
And your lack thereof.
And I wonder what I can ever do
To make you feel genuinely happy.

You talk about hate.
How you feel your family
Doesn’t like you,
So why should anyone else?

You talk about pain.
How there’s so much of it.
You keep it bottled inside.
Pressure on your skull.

You talk about death.
And how if you weren’t
Afraid of the pain,
You’d be gone by now.

Who knew “I’m sorry” would help me sleep at night
When everything in this world isn’t going right.
I never thought this is who we’d grow up to be,
counting the numbers as they total too many.

Turning out to be dealers and users,
Why couldn’t we stay on the winners and losers?
Self-medication won’t solve anything,
hanging on by a threadbare string.

And I say if I saw these people again,
it’d be too soon,
something like pouring salt into an open wound.

But that’s untrue.

And this is what life is turning out to be
something completely unnecessary,
gone too young, a song left unsung,
I’m starting to sound like a cat’s got my tongue.

We’re playing smoke and mirrors, hiding our fears.
Growing up brings with it too many tears.
Hitting me with a pile of big old bricks
A staying uneasiness that sticks.

And I say if I saw these people again,
it’d be too soon,
something like pouring salt into an open wound.

But that’s untrue.

In a mental world
where all I need is to
be a man,

I’m told to be this woman.

Shave your legs,
make your voice high,
wear the flower perfume,

not the men’s cologne.

Let your hair grow out,
keep your name,
don’t build your muscles.

You don’t look right.

You’re my daughter,
not my son.
You will not be an “other,”

you shouldn’t be masculine.

It’s a reminder
of the world we live in;
one where you can be yourself

if you fall into the right box.

The right clothes,
the right hair,
the right materials,

the right parts.

Let me out;
get this monster released
so I can be myself

a self-made man to be.

A self-made man
without a care in the world.
A self-made man

wanting to be known.