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Elliott Jul 27
He looks in the mirror, distraught. Is he...getting old?

Because it felt like only yesterday he was chasing the woman of his dreams and fawning over his little girl.

He hasn't felt like himself in a long time, the mental illness drowning his thoughts of truth and reality, blinding his minds eye.

Some days he doesn't surface from the rolls of waves pulling him under, some days he flies higher than any kite in the sky because this is his reality.

He is bipolar. He is desperate. He is alone and the fear of growing older slowly gnaws at his insides.

He misses the way things used to be, the world is but a confusing shell of what it once was...much like himself.

He clings to memories of a happier past, a brighter time when the future didn't look so bleak and the kiss of death didn't seem to be pulling him in closer with every breath he takes.

He longs for love like most rugged men do, and yet he finds only a small portion of the comfort he once had in her arms.

He longs for a life filled with success, where he doesn't have to worry anymore, where he can finally fill that hole that has been empty since the dawn of his existence.

Some days he longs for the waves to pull him under, to fall asleep one last time and leave nothing behind except a life lived of regret and a world in which he no longer fits in.

And yet when he wakes up each morning, a look of disappointment crosses his face as he realizes another day trudges on.

This is the story of my father and the man he grew to be, or maybe the man he always was. His story is not yet completed, his chapter not yet closed and like it or not,

I am his sequel.
Elliott Jul 27
"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.
Elliott Jul 26
Intoxicating...her laugh, her voice, her scent.

Dangerous...her sense of flight and fear of being hurt like all those times before.

"Look at me", she says as her eyes drown mine in complete and utter kindness, a safety I have not yet felt in this lifetime.

"Take my hand", she says as she leads me over the edge and into the unknown abyss of a life I've not yet felt the freedom to live.

They say stars burn at billions of degrees and that meteors crash faster than the speed of sound and yet still the only thing I know for certain is that when she speaks...the synapses of my brain begin to alight like supernovas.

"You better not **** this up." I say as I lay my head down at night, wondering how something so good could've happened to my life.

It's the forth down of a quarter life crisis and desperately when I needed it most, someone threw me a Hail Mary and though I'm the most unathletic person on the planet, I'll be ****** if I don't run arms open wide straight into the endzone.

Because I don't know what comes next, I cling to the realty of her lips, the smile in her gaze, and the feeling that our tomorrows together will be infinitely better than all the yesterdays before.

Thank you for pulling me from my glass house of insecurity and fear, and finding a place in this world for my blossoming life to flourish.

Here's to that next ride out past the city limits, where we'll get lost amongst the fields, the stars, and each other.
Elliott Jul 2022
I've cut ties with you. That's way easier said than done.

I've shed your lies the way a snake shed's it's skin, slowly and then all at once.

I've cut ties with you. Zero contact. I've lost you in the depths of my mind ever confined to red tinged memories.

Every song we used to sing growing up has turned to high pitched whines that hurt my ears.

Every recipe you taught me to make now tastes of poison.

I long for you and despise you all at the same time.

Right here, in this very online forum, I shouted into the depths 6 years ago that I'd lose you. I'd break through the shackles of trauma that you've saddled me with.

I'd be the "wave that sinks your imaginary boat".

I think we're both hurting, but only one of us is moving forward.
You, my love, are stuck in a past full of suppressed memories and fake identities.

So long my dear, I thank you for the good times and condemn you to loneliness for the bad.

I only hope I have the strength to follow through. To keep seeing the truth beyond your half hearted apologies and your venomous lies to do better.

You are not a parent, at least not to me anymore.

You are a cog in a machine of hatefulness and betrayal, you are the weeds that grow in the garden of good, you are terrible human being.

That little girl you brought into the world all those years ago deserved so much better than you.

And while I can't change the past, can't save her from the nights she'd wished she weren't breathing any longer, I can certainly make sure she's never hurt again. Her innocence while long gone is something to be built anew, her ambition, something you'll never touch. That fire in her eyes, a flame you'll never quell.

Goodbye mother. I wish you everything you deserve, and nothing more.
A long time coming, on to new beginnings.
Elliott Jun 2022
A seemingly fine day ruined with one headline.
Then another. And another. And by the time my phone stops buzzing the news couldn't be any clearer.

We lost a battle today. A battle for basic humanity, a battle to our own autonomy.

"Women" lost. "Women" should be afraid. "Women". "Women". "Women".

Every headline I read talks about how scary the world is for women.

Yes, the world is scary for women...or anyone with a ******.

I don't want to make this about me. Because it's not. It's about every transgender man that fights for healthcare on a daily basis. It's about every non-binary person assigned female at birth who can get pregnant.

and's about women.

It's about people (men and women) who think their ideals should determine what I do with my body.

It's about every pastor, minister, judge, and human being who feels they have a say in how my life is lived.

Poetry has always been and will always be political.

Poetry is art and art is expression of feeling.

Today....I'm ******.
I'm overwhelmed with a feeling of dread.

The same feeling of dread I felt during the 2016 election.
The same feeling of dread I felt the night of the Pulse Orlando shootings.
The same feeling of dread I feel every time I think of wearing my trans pride shirt out in public.

I'm not afraid to say how absolutely terrified I am....I'm just afraid for whatever is coming next.


- Your friendly ****** having transman.
Injustice isn't even the half of it
Elliott Jan 2022
What does it mean to be a man?

A hush quiets the room.

Seriously, what does it mean? I asked.

Because I've searched online forums and the trolls don't have much right to say,

I'd ask my father as if he would know himself,

I look at celebrities, friends, strangers, and yet I still wonder....

What does it mean to be a man?

Heaven help me because role models are hard to find. If God created sinners he must have made men with a special idea in mind.

Why do I desire something that is so hard to understand?

So tell me, what does it really mean to be a man?
Elliott Jun 2021
Welcome back to the world you'd thought you left behind.
The world where the righteous have finally met their demise.

We're glad to have you, you're almost there.
Simply past this test and gain admittance to the paradise we've told you so much about.

What's the one thing you desire most in life?
What's the one thing that keeps you up at night ( besides your own despair).

Seriously, what's your "thing"?

Truthfully, I don't know that I've found mine yet.
But I know I will and I know you will too.

The beautiful thing about the Land of Do as You Please is it's always changing, evolving, into something better.

If you haven't figured it out yet, I guess I'll tell you.
You've always been here. In fact, maybe you were born here.
Maybe you wondered in one day and subconsciously decided to never leave.

The only thing I know for sure is we're all citizens of the Land of Do as You Please.
Welcome home.
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