there is no way to make what i think
sound beautiful
or moving
or to make it flow
so here it is
it is blunt
but it is the truth.
i am trapped.
this is  disease i cannot rid of.
there uncountable, unwanted curves
and two mountains that reside on my chest
that i am ready to rid off.
where there should be a low, raspy voice
is a high pitch voice
that always gives me away.
there are soft merging lines
instead of straight sharp lines.
i am trapped
in my own body.

there is a man in my dreams.
he is tall
with hair like gold,
and his eyes that are the colour of a raging ocean
and when i touch his face
it reminds me of worn down sandpaper
- a tad prickily, but it is home.
with broad shoulders that make him look like he knows exactly where he's going
he just grins like he knows the secrets to the universe.
i hope one day im as confident and comfortable in the universe as he is.

he was my nicotine
and ******* was i addicted
but as good as i
thought he was
he's turning my lungs to ash
and my words can no
longer get past
my throat.
its time i started
using those
nicotine patches.

1 in 12 transgender people are killed every single year.
1 in 12 i can't walk the streets alone at night.
1 in 12 public restrooms are a choice of being yelled at, or being beat up.
1 in 12 i hide behind my hoodie and keep my head down when im in "shifty" places.
1 in 12 having to wear the incorrect school uniform because "kids can be cruel"
1 in 12 you're not a "real man" if you don't have a *****, and if you do have one, you cannot be a woman, like there is a set of rules.
1 in 12 i can't get i job because if they find out i'm trans they'll use slurs in the place of my name.
1 in 12 living a lie because i want to be alive.
1 in 12 but am i truly alive, if im constantly hiding behind a mask?
1 in 12 is it too selfish that i just want to survive?

in the covers of the night i still
miss you and the memories we
made like a reflex muscle
i still miss the times we
were happy and we were full of love.
but nostalgia is a liar
and now you're sleeping
with a guy you just met
to the songs we said were ours.
i am growing from this like
a beautiful blossoming tree.

this place was never home,
this was a horror house
that made feel like an intruder
when i was supposed to at peace.
instead i learned to make
homes out of the
people i loved.
and while the destruction of them
tore me to pieces,
at least for a while i had
someone to call home.

i am not my body.
i am so much more than my body.
i am my thoughts at 3am on the verge of sleep.
i am the songs stuck in my head.
i am my favourite books that i have read a thousand times over,
i am the songs i listen to when i need a break from the world.
i am the passion that drives me to stay up to 2 in the morning to finish a drawing.
i am the love i have for my friends.
i am more intricate than this vessel, i am a complex being.
I AM MORE THAN MY BODY.

i know how flawed i am.
my body is ridden all over with cuts and bruises.
my back has become an flexible ruler - never how it should be.
i care too much about the pitch of my voice, and how small my hands are when they are interlinked with yours.
i care about what strangers on the other side of this rock think of me.
i poison my already dead heart with things to make me feel alive once again.
but i am trying. trying to improve. trying to be better.
you. you are a risk taker. you don't follow the rules.
you are the taste of liquor on my tongue, i know it probably will end with a crash, but i cant help but want more.
you are the smoke in my lungs, and i should stop smoking, but i have tried, but you are apart of me.
i am addicted to the taste of you.
i am addicted to the sound of your voice when you are burning out, but you're trying to stay awake.
i am addicted to the feeling of your hands when you are nervous
and i love you. that i cannot deny.
so maybe i will quit another day.

i am a hypocrite
i promote body positivity,
yet i hate the body i am in
i promote battling your demons,
yet i have to resist the urge to jump in the path of a truck,
i say 'dont drink too much',
yet i am best friends with the bottom of the bottle

stop apologizing for existing.
you are allowed to exist.
you are allowed to take up space in this world.
exist loudly, exist with all your heart.
shout at the top of your lungs
"I EXIST SO BEAUTIFULLY AND SO LOUDLY IT MAKES ME WANT TO ******"
and its okay to **** up.
you'll **** up a lot of times.
but its okay, because tomorrow is not going anywhere,
so go and exist however the ******* want to.
because you've only got one shot at it.
so exist with all your soul and your heart.

i am flawed

i care too deeply for the small, irrelevant things. i procrastinate my responsibilities more than i care to admit. i get obsessive over bands and tv shows. i am way too vain. i poison my body, not with pills or cigarettes, but with food. i hunch my back when i sit down. razors are my best friends, and they show their love for me with kisses all down my thighs and up my arms.

i am deeply flawed.

you, however, are perfect.

you are made up of so many stars, and they are all beautiful. you are the smell of freshly baked cookies. your soul is the sunset, no one wants to miss it, but like the leaves on the ground, the wind will sweep you up and out of this place.

you are so handsome. and i when you are gone, i will mourn the presence of your soul that radiates so much light.

i want you to say that you love me.
not out of reflex or habit.
i want you to say that you love me,
with everything you are,
everything you once were,
and everything that you will become.

bright lights sting my eyes,
my hand and wrists are stained crimson red,
i've lost track of time,
and i'm losing track of myself,
i can feel the caffeine pumping through my veins,
i hope i can survive this night,
praying that sleep doesn't take me,
because my nightmares hold scarier demons than hell.

my lips are chapped,
my head is throbbing,
my vision has blurred,
i am starving myself,
to rid of these demons that haunt me,
but it is not a pretty sight.
i dont think out been outside for a few days now,
what did i used to do all the time?
my book collection is gathering dust,
and my art supplies are packed away somewhere.
i have successfully starved myself,
but not of the demons,
they still reside here,
but of my happiness.

stop saying sorry
replace those apologies with
beautiful words that
have more depth
than that automatic response.
you are not a robot
you can create new ways
to apologize
to love
to be.

i am scared of alot of things.
the unknown things lurking in the darkness.
the depth of the ocean.
the haunting monsters that live in every corner i encounter.
but my biggest fear by far,
is losing you.

i claw at my body
over and over and over
but it is not enough
it doesnt make my problems go away
to my disappointment
i am still breathing.

head throbbing,
legs shaking,
the memory of your words as sharp as a knife,
save me now before my feet find an edge.

somebody send help,
the lights in my eyes are slowly dimming.

i feel like a grenade
ready to detonate
at any second
and elimate in my path.

you need to run
to get out
i don't want to hurt you
but i'm about to explode

naive kid
thinking that it would work
"if there's a will, there's a way"
but you burned half of that will to nothing
and the other half starved to death when you abandoned it