Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Keegan 7d
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
Sep 2019 · 66
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.
Sep 2019 · 607
The Act of Being Okay
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.
Jan 2019 · 192
To My Therapist
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 .
Nov 2018 · 161
We All Fall Down
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
Nov 2018 · 153
Keegan Nov 2018
The turkeys are gone
Empty fields,
Once full of birds,
Now with empty plucked skin.
The turkeys are gone,

The turkeys are gone. 
Empty chairs,
Around tables full of plates
With only remnants of their plenty.
Doors open in an empty house,
Once full of laughter,
Now silent.
The turkeys are gone
Nov 2018 · 73
what you don't see
Keegan Nov 2018
I'm fine
                       But I'm hurting
I'm fine
                       But I'm bleeding
I'm fine
                       But I'm crying
I'm fine
                       But I'm dying
I'm fine
                       But I'm lying
Nov 2018 · 195
Keegan Nov 2018
My life's in vain
I'm going insane,
And I can't help feeling sad

I'm going bonkers,
I've fell off my rocker,
And I'm completely, utterly mad

Caught in confusion,
My minds a delusion,
And in the shadows I hide

My life's a mistake,
Filled with things that I break,
No matter how hard I tried

I'm not doing so well,
I'm going through hell,
They ignored my hapless pleas

I fell to the ground,
And wept without sound
They left my down on my knees

Away I was tossed,
And now I'm so lost,
I feel so wonderfully dumb

I cried my tears,
And I faced my fears,
But everything now is just numb

2 a.m knows my woes,
And as a write this prose,
A tear slides down my cheek

A sob breaks free,
And I whimper softly,
That I'm so pathetic and weak

My skin is stained,
From the blood that I drained,
From my wrist in a thin little line

I perfect a disguise,
With a smile full of lies
And everyone thought I was fine

My mind's in a whirl
The demon gave a slow curl
Of his bony skeletal finger

He crept up to me,
And smiled nastily,
"You'd be prettier if you were much thinner"

I smiled a fake smile,
And held on, for a while,
but my life was filled with strife

My blood was red,
And mixed with tears that I shed,
Left alone in the room with a knife

So I put on a mask,
and completed the task,
I placed the gun to my head

I curled my finger,
And pulled the trigger,
And In the end I was dead
Nov 2018 · 90
Keegan Nov 2018
The water scorches my skin.
I am sat on the floor of my shower for the umpteenth night in a row.
This water is too hot,
But I cannot muster the energy to turn it down;
(At least it feels like something, even pain)
I haven't looked away from the floor for ten minutes,
This patch of tile is burned into my memory.
The water is still too hot,
And I still have not turned it down.
The empty pit in my chest throbs cold.
I want to set a fire there but fire doesnt burn where there is no oxygen;
Only hell could fix this.
The water runs hotter than the blood in my veins.
I don't think I will turn it down.
Why wait for hell when I can burn here?
Keegan Nov 2018
Why do you question why I am broken?

You made me this way;

You flung your words and hate at me like knives,

You scorn me, and turn your noses up.

You ignore my pain, except only when you are not mocking it.

You wonder why I am hard as stone, ice.

You ripped the softeness and warmth from my flesh, and this is all that was left.

You wonder why you made me like this.

The ice queen has taken her throne.
Nov 2018 · 830
Keegan Nov 2018
I'm alive,
                            I am dead inside.
I have met every goal,
                          Every hurt feeling,
For which I strive.
                                    I must hide.
I finally feel whole.  
                    Even caged birds sing.
Nov 2018 · 85
Keegan Nov 2018
You said you'd never hurt me;
That would be a lie.
You said that this was better;
But never told me why.

You said that I was perfect;
From the bottom to the top.
You said don't ever change;
But you, you wouldn't stop.

You said that you were sorry;
You said you had to go,
You said you said you said you said;
I gave up on that a long time ago.
First published poem on Hellopoetry.  I've been writing for a couple years now, and I'm starting to share.

— The End —