If I am being honest, I am good alone. I know what to expect.
I enjoy taking the time to write my poetry and reading the books in my room.
If I am being honest, I have never felt more free than I do right now. I have my work friends and my family.
If I am being honest, I don't know if I believe in: true love or God. I know true love exists but I am good alone. I don't know if God even cares about me.
If I am being honest, working at a thrift store isn't the same as working for a newspaper as a journalist. Maybe one day I can go back to college for journalism.

Tick-tock, I hear the constant clicking at the back of my skull as though someone shot the back of my mind with an invisible gun.
Tick-tock, always reminding me pain is never too far away from me.
Tick-tock, gender dysphoria is looking in the mirror and feeling physical pain of being someone you already are. Wishing to be something you aren't.
Tick-tock, gender dysphoria is feeling every fiber of your being tearing away at each cell wanting you to scream in agony in it's wake.
Tick-tock, gender dysphoria is feeling like you are this thing no one wants and letting the loneliness swallow you whole.
Tick-tock, gender dysphoria is always feeling like you aren't enough to anyone.
Tick-tock, you never know how much time you have until your time is up. Luckily, I am not dying young.

Gender dysphoria,
I feel a stabbing pain in my chest.
Gender dysphoria,
I feel the pain spread across my body.
Gender dysphoria,
I feel phantom pains everywhere:
my ribs, my legs, my neck and my mind.
Gender dysphoria,
It's more of a physical pain than a mental pain.

Gilded Hearts wither in the storms of life.
Gilded Hearts pass by me each day. Coaxed by their comfortable lives into a drum sound of normalcy.
Gilded Hearts are predictable in their white picket fence lifestyles.
But are they ever really living life to the fullest?
Gilded Hearts are prejudice of those different from them.
Gilded Hearts break too easily because I used to be one of them. Always with a stick up my ***. Then I learned about people who were different from me. Until I realized I wasn't Gilded Hearted at all. But someone different from the Gilded Hearts.
Where I reveal my emotional scars like trophies and the gold fades away then I am just me.
Gilded Hearts act like they are gods and goddesses when in reality: They are only human.

Remarkable Love,
She is breathtaking by her beautiful soul.
Remarkable Love,
She has restarted my broken-heart.
Remarkable Love,
She may be my first love but she brought out a part of me I forgot I had.
Remarkable Love,
A part of me that is brave enough to face anything.
Remarkable Love,
I saw her last night while she was driving. Her dark blue eyes and that awe-inspiring scarlet smile.
Remarkable Love,
She has rescued me again this time with a smile. Sure we aren't getting back together. She reminded me who I need to be with a smile. That is who I have always been a selfless poetess because no one else is me and no one else is her.
Remarkable Love,
Thank you for reminding me of who I am.

A love that never blossomed.
My heart soaking up the agony of it all like a sponge in a soapy bucket of water.
Painting with the shades of blue of my heart as my loving dreams I had of her cloud my mind.
I let the rain pour.
But I don't let the bitterness consume the sweetness that resides in my broken-heart.

I am a mess of emotions, I am brokenhearted.
I am broken in ways, I am still figuring out.
I don't know what to do other than to make art out of my pain.
Painting with the shades of blue of my broken-heart to ink on paper.