I am in the right restroom,
I am wearing the right clothing,
I am not confused,
I am in the wrong body

Yes, My mother knows of my "condition".
Maybe I am mentally ill.
But that is not for you to decide.
Yes, This is of my own free will,
And not an act of rebellion.

I am not a girl.
This is my real name.
I am Kayden T. Widmer
And Yes, I am a boy.

sometimes you just want to be alone
in your very own room
just complete hush-hush
scanning your thoughts
and predicting your future
accepting yourself
not keeping that thick, unlit mask
in order to dress and impress

multitudes of pressure begins to melt away
it's just you
and you only
and it becomes one of those rare occasions
where everything and anything is about you
and no one can mock or criticise
no one can tell you no
no one will have any psychological power
but yourself

and this is when you lull yourself to sleep
you decide
to finally rest
and be at inner peace

home in the mirror
appearing nearer

but i'm not driving
or even trying
to turn around

i'm burning down

bridges behind me
all I can see

over my shoulder
looking for closure

the colder and closer
i get to the sea.

the reason to wake is to kiss the day
and be kissed back awake
by the fineness of the thinking mind
and a heart so big it breaks
on the shores of everyday madness
she bleeds a little tear and rushes
to set right the wrongs of mankind
kissing a wound here and there and here again
she wakes to a brand new day

our world is collapsing
our minds are very suicidal
we have knives in our hands
and we fake it everyday
we hope it'll be okay
but it won't be today or any other day

I look out from this little world
with all it's dancers dancing

Mighty trees tickle the sky
The birds in them romancing

If we but stop and listen
we'll hear the music playing

Stop a while and close your eyes
exhale the troubles weighing

Down around your shoulders
Thoughts that cloud your heart

We're only here but for a while
Before we drift apart

Like clouds across the silver moon
we're here and gone far too soon

Then pass into the inky night
Still around, yet out of sight

Some of our clouds stretch for miles
Others stacked in fragile piles

Some full and dark and hanging low
Filled with tears they can't let go

Some so wispy and so light
Their presence a mere oversight

Some whose wrath begets a name
Who form a mighty hurricane

Some who rumble in the night
Hurling lightening left and right

Some dark and brooding, filled with snow
Dumping ice on all below

Some that twist right to the ground
Violently they spin around

Some collide, some drift away
Some prefer night, some prefer day

So let us stop and gaze up high
To find ourselves within the sky