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 yes....it'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.

Sincerely,

- Your friendly ****** having transman.

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?

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.

I look upon you with fear and disgust,
why do I want to be one of you so badly.

Truthfully, I'm better than you.
You're not half the man I am.

Cat calls and sneers as I walk by,
disgusting thoughts and that wonderful feeling of entitlement and ownership.

You think you own the world, because that's what we've allowed you to believe.

That flesh between your legs somehow makes you a God.

I despise you, I envy you.

I envy the way you get to walk alone at night.
I envy the your false confidence, your privilege.
I envy your camaraderie  while we've been taught to tear each other apart.

I envy you, I despise you, and truthfully, I never want to be like you.

And that's okay.

I may never be the kind of man you are, but I'll be a man none the less.

I'll be an ally, a safe haven, a calming reprieve in the storm.
I'll hunt down men like you, I'll send you all to the land of do as you please.

We'll deal with you there, in the land where your privilege is a thing of the past.

In a land, where you'll be the one leaning to keep your knees and mouth shut.

Change is in the air,
drive is in my mind.

Turmoil may be approaching,
risk is high, reward could be even greater.

Do I take the chance?
A chance to cheat death?
A chance to have a life again?
A chance to do what you didn't.

You tried, and I commend the effort.
But in the end, to dust you returned.

I've vowed to honor you,
and to in turn, never be like you.

So I run, as fast as a I can with open arms to the operation.
The cool cut of the knife under my skin to save me from the same fate you met.

I tell myself....
It's one thing to be fat....it's another thing to die.
It's one thing to be sad....it's another thing to be selfish.

Do I hold that against you? That you were the ticket to your own demise?

Do I hold you in contempt for being too dead to make it to my high school graduation?

Why am I so scared? What do I have to fear? That's right...death.
Death is a funny little creature. Sometimes it makes an appearance and is the star of the show. Other times it's shy, scared, and appears slowly over time until the consumption of it's subject has been completed.

You were the second, yet we all should've seen it coming.
But never mind, let's get back to the subject, while I can still be saved.

Can I be saved? Can I truly live again? A reincarnation, a former shell of myself come to life under the guise of a second chance.

A new beginning at nineteen. Less of a quarter life crisis and more of a life just begun.

Shedding trauma with pounds, revealing the flesh and emotions left behind.

Because no amount on the scale can compare to the weight of the world on your shoulders.

How much will the operation shed?

The breeze blows.
The sun shines.

and for the first time in weeks, I feel completely alive.
Like I'm more than just a cog in a machine, more than my future.

A living being.
Right now, the sun shines, the breeze blows, the waves crash, my blood pumps, my skin tingles, my brain moves a thousand miles per minute.

Most importantly,
right now I'm living.

....a feeling I can't quite describe.

Despair.

....a feeling I know all too well.

How is it?

That when I walk out the door and open my eyes, I feel 100 pairs are staring back at me.

What is all this for?

The surgery, the transition, the willingness to be someone else.

I wish I knew.

All I know is that one day, I'll look in the mirror and finally see someone that feels like me.

I'll look inside my soul and for the first time, not be an imposter, but be at home.