If I told you I could love,
Would you finally be happy?
See me grovel at your feet, submit to your delusions of
The perfect world in the palm of your hand.

If I told you I could lust,
Would I satisfy your thirst with my lies?
Sweet drops of honey covered deception, the sting solely in my heart.

Could I live like this, I wonder.
If only I could face the road of rotten land, live in the shadows and the muck of sweet lies,
Of honey covered poison.

I feel you fully, skin to skin
Begging my brain to let you in
To push past the chatter and fear I feel
So we can continue to build what feels so real
Underneath the panic and the ecstasy
Our souls blend together like alchemy
Your hazel eyes feel like pathways home
So familiar, though still trails unknown
My heart aches for yours in the in between
As my mind grasps desperately for what it means
And while this life will give us no certainty
I deeply believe in you and me

As I feel like a man, every emotion is slower and is more potent.
As I feel like a man, everything changed.
As I feel like a man, I feel the responsibilities of being a man.
As I feel like a man, I feel content yet I also feel a pain in my ribs.
As I feel like a man, I feel euphoric.
As I feel like a man, everything is new yet I feel like that feeling have always been with me.
As I feel like a man, I can finally describe the peace I feel when one of my friends wants to know more about my pronouns and what I prefer. I am keeping my full name. Considering I am a gender fluid woman I am keeping both parts of me: My feminine body and my masculine heart.

"He's young now." I look into the mirror. "He'll grow on you."

"He's learning. Unwise in his few years, low in confidence."

I ponder..." Will he always be so...scrappy?"

Here stands a young man, looking in the mirror. Still baffled at the reflection he sees.

There goes a woman, his mother, still determined to have a youngest daughter.

People say "He's changing, look in the mirror...see for yourself."

What I see is a scared young man....

scared to live, scared to take up space, scared to make a sound in the noise of society's never ending chaos.

She's trying...she says. To understand. To support. To move on. She knows not her faults nor the effect her words have on you...she only knows that one day her daughter stopped wearing dresses, cut her hair, and left a life of pink and pageantry behind.

No, she doesn't know what she does, but she can see the light in your eyes began to dim when she calls you her little girl.

His father....slowly decaying, pushes the ideas of a son out of his mind. Refuses to see the beard and changing physique in front of him, clings desperately like a moth to a flame to his little girl who he swears never grew a day past the age of five.

Back when things were simple. Back when there wasn't so much **** change. Back when things mattered less about pronouns and more about peace of mind and reputation.

When I grow up, I want to be the change that I wish I saw in all of you. I want to embrace who I love with open arms, decide that I'd **** for the man I see in the mirror. Let all those who disapprove be ******.

Because if I couldn't protect the light in that little girls eyes so many years ago, I'll be **** sure that the man I become is one who will protect mine.

They call it "chemistry"
But it feels like much more to me

Everything else ceases to exist
So nothing but Us is relevant

Our souls found a secret place
A quiet piece of the universe's space

Somewhere to breathe and intertwine
Your energy dancing with mine

A place where people rarely meet
Yet we found ourselves so naturally

And maybe it's insanity
But you feel like magic to me

Nothing is queerer than quiet understanding...

Except  maybe  survival