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 Jul 2016 jamie
Zach Hanlon
Being transgender is like this:
Everyday of your life, you have always wanted a dog.
For as long as you can remember--
even if you don't know to what extent--
you have wanted one.

You asked your parents, Santa, the easter bunny,
even the tooth fairy.
Then one day you get a dead cat for your birthday.
You say "This isn't a dog,"
But "You get what you get and don't get upset"
So you carry around and care for the dead carcass.

All sorts of people look at you,
unable to understand what you are doing.
So then one day you decide to try to make it look a bit nicer.
You wash it a bit, comb what little fur it has left,
cover the decrepit limbs.

But then you realize the futility in doing this all the time,
because you are still carrying around a dead animal.
So you continue to carry it around because you have to,
no matter how horrible it may be.

Although you are carrying around a dead and rotting cat,
you aren't a ******* cat owner;

You still want a ******* dog.
 Jul 2016 jamie
Desert Rose
Boys or girls
Neither here nor there
Stuck in the middle
Who to choose to
Spend the rest of forever with

I love you
Three little words
Don't do anything
Personality is all there is
For me to choose from

Forever is in the making
Problem is:
Choosing just one person
Who I'm able to live with

Girls know my pain
Have been through
All the same **** as me
Have the same feminine problems

Guys are oh so sweet
Are always there for me
Give me faith
Make me believe
In the goodness of humanity


The one who has my heart
Will open up my soul
Save me from the beast inside
Make me feel real
For once in my life
Is the one for me
 Jul 2016 jamie
Kishamore
Every Deep scar
on my skin
has an abstruse story
written with
tears of
a naive heart's love.

© Kishamore
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