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Keegan Mar 2020
We are trapped in closets that are more like coffins
Every breath a game of Russian roulette, wondering which will be our last.
Each step outside a bullet in the chamber,
Every person another pull of the trigger,
And one day they will line up,
For one, final, shot.
By the time they turn 20, 1 in 3 Trans people will have attempted suicide,
And those are only the ones who make it that far.
Out of 41% who try, 10% will succeed.  
We want to go home but we don't have them anymore and maybe we never did.
More trans youths are accepted by oncoming traffic than by their parents,
The only hugs those from the rope around our necks.  
Replacing love with pills and pain.
"If you want to **** yourself that bad, then just do it."
The average life span in America is 78.8 years young.
The average life span when you're trans is around 20 to 32,
Which means that I have lived more of my life than I have left,
And my friends are only just starting to live theirs.
Birthdays are just a count down to when the last blow will be struck.
1 in 12 of us will be murdered.
We are not safe
Bathrooms are ****** battlefields,
Not man enough, not woman enough,
Not enough.
Who can decide that the twisted flesh and gaping wounds that belong to our bodies hurt them more than it does us.
Half of us are dead before the last breath leaves our body,
Ghosts to our family and everyone else,
Only existing to be the punchline,
To a joke that we don't find funny.  
My screams sound more like apologies,
And I'm choking on them.
They tell that my body is my home,
But home has never been safe for me,
Our lives are like nightmares that we can't wake up from,
And I'm just so tired at this point that I can barely find it in myself to care.
I think they've forgotten that we are human,
That if you cut me I bleed,
It's red, and it hurts.
Call me joke, call me lie, call me anything but my name!
Push me back in with all the other skeletons.
This closet is a coffin,
And I am 6 feet under.
Keegan Sep 2019
Have you ever imagined kissing someone,
Bodies tangled so close that your edges blur,
And you forget where you end and they begin?
Chapped, bitten lips pressed together like puzzle pieces,
Completing each other for one moment,
Millennia compressed into the spaces between heartbeats.
Tandem pulses,
Breaths mingled,
Wrapped so tightly around each other that you leave bruises on souls.
Tasting the sweetness of each other's words of love.
Panting from breathtaking beauty and long kisses,
Giving everything and getting in return
Keegan Sep 2019
Call me a monster enough times
And I will answer to it.
Call me a monster enough times,
And I will grow fangs and claws
I have been told that what I feel
Is not monstrous.
That I am a human.
But I still test my teeth in mirrors,
And keep my nails trimmed short.
No one loves a monster,
Not even the monster itself.
Keegan Sep 2019
They say 'are you okay?'
But what they mean to ask is,
Are you happy,
Or at least faking enough,
To be normal. 
Are you adequate,
Or at least silent enough,
To be fine.
Are you okay.
Or at least tired enough,
To be 'okay.'
Keegan Feb 2019
How do I love you when
Anxiety festers in every thought.
How do I love you when
Most days I can't even feel.
How do I love you when
Every movement leaves me shattered.
How do I love you when
Sometimes I can't get out of bed.
How do I love you when
Going a day without crying is a victory.
How do I love you when
My own brain whispers that I am not worth it.
How do I love you when
I can't even love myself.
I was broken up with the week before Valentine's day.
Keegan Jan 2019
I'm writing a poem to my therapist
To tell her what I cant say.
To explain the emptiness that I feel,
The pain I feel everyday.

I'm writing a poem to my therapist
To tell her what I cant say.
To explain my hatred for myself,
The way that nothing feels okay.

I'm writing a poem to my therapist
To tell her what I cant say.
To explain my missing motivation,
The way I can't do anything any way.

I wrote a poem to my therapist
To tell her what I couldn't say.
To explain the twists of my mind,
The truth behind the facade I portray.
A poem I wrote to my therapist to explain .
Keegan Nov 2018
People fall.
They fall in love:
And they fall out.
They fall asleep,
And they fall for lies.
They fall into luck,
Or fall out with friends
And they fall off roofs.
But sometimes;
Sometimes, they jump.
And isn't that funny
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