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 Feb 2020
worm
tired so tired why can’t i just be a woman why can’t i just be comfortable with she why can’t i just be ok with “girl” why can’t i look at pictures with long hair and dresses and recognize a person why do i have to see my body  bare and uncovered and feel sick why can’t i say the words even to myself.

my identity is based around likeability and avoidance of change i can’t even say i am it’s all “i think” “i might” “maybe i’m” when i know ******* well that i am or at least what i sure am not
and the thought of requesting people to call me something different or even make a change known makes me want to hurl and i can never find the words or the courage so i must continue hearing even my closest friends go on using She and Girl and even the few who know even the only one who knows in person who has expressed full support and willingness to change who has loved me before and will not stop i am afraid to ask to use different words



am i so destined to suffer? will i face this fear and challenge for ever? will i ever be able to look at my chest and torso and not be filled with disgust and will i ever be able to loudly and proudly assert who i am? never have i been ashamed but will i ever allow myself to be Proud?
i was struggling with my gender a bit last night and wrote this.
 Feb 2020
fairyenby
a body
floating in space
a mirror
unknown, a face
a chest, that rises and falls
*******, unwanted, I stall
this label, this name, this "girl"
whom only on certain days, echoes my world
otherwise i'm known as the ghost
an inbetween, a maybe,
almost.
April 2016
 Feb 2020
alex
when i say
“i want you to come home”
i’m talking to the woman
i was always expected to be

i don’t miss her and
i don’t love her
but she would make it
a little less messy.
being nonbinary. i’m not the woman from the story that the womb told; i’m even bigger than that.
 Feb 2020
ab
there is so much i'm afraid to ask you.

i want to know what it means
when it feels like a knife's blade
is trailing down your back whenever
anyone says ma'am or miss
but it doesn't carve into your flesh
the way you'd assume it might

i want to understand why i want
to carve and shape my chest
but don't mind if my curves stay
if it means i could wear a corset
and compress the rest of my body

i want to know why i am afraid to tell you
even though you're my best friend
and i know that you understand
and i know that you're here for me
but i'm afraid you will think
i am making it up as i go, like this
hasn't been long enough

but i have known something was wrong
for over a year

i didn't talk to you much then
even though i knew you for years

but i couldn't figure out why i was scared
why i am scared
why i have been scared of myself
and my body
and my mind
and i don't know where i am or what i'm doing
but i'm scared if i tell you now

it will be too late.

i know you know.

i don't have to tell you anything

but at the same time i know
that if i don't, you won't mold your words
around my mind, you won't plant
the flowers of change in your collar

and it's not because you wouldn't,

it's because i haven't given you a name for it.

one is a name you said reminded you of carnations

two is a name you told me existed

three is a name that even i am afraid to utter
because i don't feel right taking it from you
even if i tick all of the boxes perfectly.

it is a name i am not familiar with yet.

it is a name that would steal my parents' daughter
away from them

and it would not grant them a son either.

i want to talk about it so badly
but my lips won't form the words
and everyone around me has already
begun assimilating their language
without my telling them

i wish you would ask me what is wrong.

and i wish you would choose
'them'
for me.
~what is dysphoria supposed to feel like? do i have to mention it to my therapist? is that what this is?

— The End —