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Sometimes my words come out as static
and my legs don’t work quite right,
so I wind up the spring in my lower back
to act myself for the night.
A puppet existing in someone else’s world,
or a marionette doll mastered by myself.
Sometimes I wish I could let go,
so they would leave me on the shelf.
Death
Death death
Death death death
Death death death death death
Death death death death death death
Death death death death death death
Death death death death death
Death death death death
Death death death
Death death
Death
Somebody tell the sky,
That it doesn’t have to be gray,
If it doesn’t want to anyways.

It’s awfully hard,
To rain on someone’s parade,
If the sun is shining through you.

Even when your curtain is closing,
That’s no reason for you,
To not give the best finale you can.
Be your best self, because there’s no reason not to. Life’s a lot easier when you're your best self.
_
gasp,

gaps,

my memory,

why is everything so fuzzy,

disoriented,

my vision...

tell me,

tell me now,

TELL ME-

TELL ME NOW-

WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME-

why won't you tell me what happened?

what happened...

what...

you.

YOU.

no...

no. no.

no.no.nononononoon....

NO.

this wasn't supposed to be,

this way.

WHY?

-WHY ME?
i feel too much right now
Everything’s burning down around me
As I walk through this path on fire
I meet at the end a mirror
Only to find myself holding the torch
The heat feels great
The bridges finally burned
My mind at ease
For this I yearned
If I chose to search for joy
I'd find nothing
And I don't believe
In happy endings
I'll keep trusting
There is no fun found
Anywhere on the planet
I'd be lying if I said that
You can find happiness
On Earth
I have taken quite the liking to reverse poems.
My pain Is Eternal.
But no one can see it. no one can feel it.
Only I can see and feel this pain.
Only I can hear it laughing at me when i look in the mirror.
Only i can feel it when someone calls me the wrong name.
only i can fix it.
but there is no hope for me.
my family cannot see or hear this pain.
only i can.
only i can fix it.
but there is no hope for this mess.
My gender dysphoria has been getting worse.
This poem describes my pain.
I don’t know what I should do.
I can’t manage to get beneath
All the layers of artifice
To finally find the genuine me.

Who is this wounded entity
Wearing the face of an actress
Stumbling across a dim-lit stage
Living her life for an audience.

Where can I go to find the answers
To all the questions that nag me
And why are there no real denouements
To all all the theatrical plots I live.

What soap can take off all the makeup
Applied so thickly with loving care;
And when it’s finally washed away
What kind of person will be standing there.
ljm
NY Eve Introspection
bold and creative.

warm, nostalgic sunrises.

sweet fruits, they're ripe on a tree.

no rhyme, save for a botanical term
almost no one knows.

rare favorite colour,
but deserving all the same.
For anyone wondering, the botanical term is sporange, It's a technical term for the sac where spores are produced. Another rhyme for orange is Blorenge, which is a hill in southeast Wales.
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