My body
Is not obscene.
It is not something
That needs to be hidden,
Brought out only in the dark of bedrooms,
And showers,
And alleyways,
And incognito mode.

My body
Is not for sale,
Not a commodity, though if I chose to sell it for money you'd ridicule me--
Deep down you love it, don't you?
The fine you pay for fine curves and no promises.
Those desperate nights you need something to come into.
Is that what we are?--
Somethings?

And no sooner exchange the dollar for a dance than sweettalk for ***.
And I could do the same to you, too-- I am not excused.
Not that you know that. We all pretend I can't...

Just a prize to be won?
I'm not anyone!
Come on, try to take me...
And when you do, oh-oh-oh!
Congratulations!
Lucky you!
You got me.

Success

Sweet success.

I have desires too,
But they don't matter--
If I want to **** him, he's the one who won
Because females don't desire.
And being trans?
Genderqueer?
Androgyne?
Hell, that doesn't exist!
What a load of ****!
And I smile now, because I don't remember how to cry.

I am not allowed to desire,
And if I do, and I reach what I want,
Then I am a ****.
Worthless.
Trash.
But were I a "real" man,
I would be a winner for it.

Anger has lived in me.
Jealousy has made my bones its home.
I am not allowed to exist.
I am not allowed to want.
I am not allowed to sin.
I am not allowed to be.
I am a second, a lower form.
Collateral--
And I'm yours.

Why do you worship my body and yet disrespect it?
And disrespect me?
I cannot exist.
Kiss me just to shut me up----
I'm tired of pretending to be human in a world that won't let me be.
I quit.

You complain that I complain.
But sexism pervades every moment of my life:
I am constantly fighting it;
Each kiss, every ****,
My schooling, my career,
Everyday conversations,
All of my relations to other people, no matter which kind,
Each time I shower,
Get dressed,
Exercise,
Turn on the TV,
Go out to the pool or a hotel or on a walk,
Sexism is there to hold my hand.
It is with me.
I've never had an ally so loyal.
It wouldn't dare leave my side.

Would I dare?
To leave it behind?
Would you?
Could we join hands,
Across genders,
Across sexes,
Form a new alliance?
One that helps me feel safe in my own body,
My own mind,
My own home?

That gives other women and other afabs a chance to be seen as more than just bodies?
Will there be a day when I can stand beside an amab, both our chests bare, and be seen as equal?
Will there be a day when you will see me as my gender?
And will there be a day that you will finally see a trans woman as more of a woman than me?
We may be females.
Biologically or mentally--
But that does not define us.
We define us.

This is My Body.
It is not me, but it is mine.
It will never belong to anyone else.

My Body.

Confessions don't really matter
- why?
For I am just a cloud of elements
That happened to fall together
I am, the vast majority of me,
just empty space.
And yet I claim to have a Soul
and I have the Audacity
To give that soul a Name
and call it as though it Means Something
And I claim to have a Mind
and I have the Audacity
To act as though it Matters.

My words mean Nothing,
In the grand scheme of things.
So my confessions Shouldn't matter.

And yet... I speak--

I'm surrounded by cotton-bullet people.
They do not want to fight.
They do not like to be hit.
I know--
I tried a million times to wrestle;
They wanted no part.

I'm surrounded by cotton-bullet people.
But I'd rather weild a greatsword--
Don't care if it knocks me down,
I lose my balance--
How else am I to learn to pick myself back up?

I'm surrounded by cotton-bullet people.
They shy away from me,
And expect me to shy from them--
From everything.

But how am I to live that way?
Will it scare them when I am bold,
And unafraid?

Am I right that I should prepare myself
To withstand
Whatever battles may come?
Or am I just a silly, sentimental *******?
Filled with ideas about fighting for honor,
And about feeling Alive.

I'm surrounded by cotton-bullet people.
But I long to hit and be hit.
Hard.

*** isn't love...
*** is better
When you are protected.
Everything is safe,
And nothing at risk.

Love, I am told,
(Though I am not yet this old--)
Is best when the walls are torn down
And the best is at stake
And the shields are long gone
And you bring out all the wrongs--

*** is a fire,
But it burns in the hearth;
Love tears through the forest,
Open flame--

You. Can. Be. Anyone.
Anyone at all!
How does that make you feel?

If you are a child, I hope it makes you feel wonderful
Spirit emblazed with the possibilities
Worlds open up for you,
And you are free,
Empowered;
There is a time for potential.

But if you are older and feel the crushing weight of your self upon your own shoulders,
and you want to cage yourself in
Away from the infinity that you are,
and hide
Til you realize that You are not there to confine,
And that you make yourself;
And if this terrifies you,
Know
That it is because it is important.

Now take your aged wisdom,
And apply the youth of your past.
And awaken yourself,
And push away Fear;
You have the Potential;
*Embrace it.

The fire is pretty enough.
Flames
Dance
Dazzling
Bright
Whilst I hold you tight
In the bossom
Of my soul
In any old soul
You could lay there and rest;
But not mine.

I
Rock you like a storm rocks the sea
Holding you carefully,
Haphazardly
And you smile wildly now;
Enjoy the ride
Enjoy the fire--

But wary the smoke
That rises and curls;
The black-ash folds
Which create me.
As you breathe me in
Tasting my sin
Hoping to stay--

Be wary the smoke
Which rises and curls
Toward your nostrils and
Into your lungs...

Perhaps you can breathe.
Perhaps not.

And I'll take in yours
Large sighs fill my lungs
With the dangerous fog that pervades you
And now it knows mine
And as we intertwine,
Time:
Leaves us*

And I---
Like a child, but a thousand years old,
Searching stories, yet told,
For some saneness to hold,
I drink in the silver
and wine--

I don't know why I feel like a grenade
Never stocked explosives inside;
Never once ignited my name,
Not intentionally--
But, still--
When you come in to meet me,
Oh--
What a thrill!
Threw yourself in a warzone
And I'm staggering, still--
Crashing through Life with a God-given will,
-- God-given?,
Or God-foresaken?
Or *******.
I stumble through time with a rifle for a hand,
And a stone-throwing gaze
And a mind that's a maze
Of trench warfare
Or, if I'm lucky,
Hills.
From which I shoot---
Dear, keep on walking my way,
One day
I'm bound to hit you.

Too big
Too many things to see
To pick up
To carry...

Too grand
Too many things to hear, to feel, to stand...

Too much:


...in each of us.

And now I Yawp--
Across the hills, over the stormiest seas and why?
I am no longer afraid!
I loafe myself, yes, and more--
I am Alive, and also
living.
What a great and tragic thing to be!
I relish my versatility--
I have power! The power to choose!
And in every moment we make ourselves---
And I choose the colors carefully
But yet they come together in a wild way
Because I am Alive!
And tomorrow, I may not be.
Oh, to be living!
And I am dying, too!
Never once before has my Pride been less of a vice
For in it
There is humility.
As I recognize the vast expanse of my own Power
I take responsibility
And lower my hands to the dirt
And my self to the ground
And examine my tread-marks.
And I will walk with a Purpose!
No more shall I pretend myself a helpless aside,
Lost in the current of my own life!
No!
I, I am responsible for my every action,
And as I move, I move us all.
(If the movement may be small.)
So small as to be unnoticeable, yes,
But what significance I have is still Significance.
And thus I walk alongside my kin and carry my morals upon my shoulders.
I. Must. Not. Back. Down!
Am I afraid of my own success?
Of course!
But I mustn't let that stop me;
For there is something at work that is
Much larger than I shall ever be--
And I am a part of it.

I do not separate myself from the system, but instead recognize my movements in it
And its movement in me.

The world was full of light,
But it didn't understand her,
And she didn't get it either,

So she became the storms
The thunderclouds
The lighting and the fire

She became the night
The velveteen blackness
And the unknown

She became the dreary
The gray
The worn

She became the crows
The scavengers and petty thieves
The witches and the branches twisted

She became the dust, the rust
The vagabonds
The other us

She became the roaches
She became the mud
She became the things unseen
When we walk the path that's painted clean

aLL the WorlD it spiNs OuTside mE
QueStiOn mY ReaLiTy
wHY eVeRything inSidE
Is oKAy,
buT i HidE
HidE BeNeAth The HiDe
SPiN

little eXplosioNs
A FiReworK disPlaY
a ColOreD DiSaRray
Of aToMs GoNE to plaY
The eXplosioNs
SPiN

biTE inTo mY SKin
little eXplosioNs
SPiN
QueStiOn mY ReaLiTy
Forgive me-
oH!:
ForGet Me, oH foRget me.
Please,
Forget me.
SPiN+
sPiN/
pLeaSE, FoRgeT
sPin----
spin<


Spin,
Spin,
Spin.

Locks
The Chains
Hold me Down

What A Heavy
Petulance
All-Important
Chastening
Embrace-Protect
The Object

i sit waiting
begging the rust
Time's smooth Decay

I may find the sacrifice
Beautiful:
Blood drips down
O'er white, furred skin
A striking display.

At the end of the day
The lamb is dead
And the lamb,
--I guarantee--
Does not agree with me.

But good God, I'm restless!
I can't even sleep...
In day I have been terribly tired and haunted by a lassitude,
Lashed in place by listlessness,

And now that the stars have come,
And the moon has crossed overhead,
I couldn't sleep if I wanted to.
Angst! Malaise!
Like a ghoul,
Haunting me
The same as the lassitude which should have preempted it-

The sleepless night crawls up and down my arms
Like a lover's touch when you've already said,
"Dear, not tonight."
I love the night but
Sleep, come take me into your embrace.
Let me join the soft waves of the semiconscious sea
And dream--
I lie, eyes wide in the dark
Staring down a screen which soaks up my words like a sponge..
Full yet? I hope not, for I must dribble out more.
Dabbing paint in loud colors on a dark canvas×
       •  ••    •• • ~
I lay in bed pretending.
My feet at the pillows,
My head at the foot;
Perhaps there are times this energy is welcome,
And I'd treat it as a gift,
And that's probably usual but
tonight--
Tonight it is ennui.
Tonight it is a disoccupation,
An unoccupation,
And it makes me squirm~~

I had a dream you wrote poetry to me
And it wasn't in poems, but it was poetry-
And you didn't write for me,
But you did write at me,
In that selfish way,
The way I talk at you.

But it was beautiful and real
And I saw you
For a moment
Not the real you; of course not.
But a creation of an idea of you that wasn't you.
Inside my head.

And you and I and all of Us
Are so alike
And I hope you keep talking at me
Like I do to you
We're all so selfishly human--

Keep talking at me,
And maybe one day
we'll both be
Something more--

But for now, the mundane.
Let it live in your name
And we'll all be the same
Tell me:
What Wild was not once Trapped?

I'm so old
And so alone.

My love was born before my fears,
There when the ocean began to appear

And, my dear--

I put such a heavy thing upon you in it,
To love you like I do,

And I'm sorry,
And I don't blame you

When you say you're through.

But I'm not through.

Because
My love
My love
has lasted--
Through eons 'fore and eras past-
And hasn't died,
And nor shall I
live to see it go---

You are still a boy, I know
Together, we, too young, unfold--
I would sit and watch you grow
Until the stars come down like snow--

But you, bright man, will never know,
And why I sing the truth--
You are gone; you turn and go
Still I carry with me my love for miles---

The feel behind your eyes
when you're about to cry
Of sadness, joy, or doubt.
The way a breath seeps in
And settles out
a lung
The way a finger bends
Where every digit ends
The tightening of lips,
The aging of the young
The fact that feet have toes
and arch,
and soles.
The scent of rotting leaves
that rides upon the breeze,
which in winter nips the nose.
A footstep's changing sound
while crossing changing ground--
The height to which grass grows,
a tree with sturdy
Trunk and bows.
The fact that I'm so small
I am nothing at all --
The billions of stars
Minuscule and distant-
Whose shear tiny size
Trump my grand existence --

I held myself in soft closeness that night
Cocooned in the warmth owning a bed provides
And breathed alongside seven-billion other sighs
Desperate, terrified...
to Collide.

I miss the girl
The girl with the lace and the curls
The girl with the long, black eyelashes and painted cheeks.

I know that she
Never really existed
Just an illusion that glistens
On the fog of unkempt dreams,

But sometimes I still miss her
Because I wish that she
Were me.

The light is quiet
In this pleasant night-hour;
The atmosphere is at ease,
I walk barefoot on floors
And breathe air.
All of this as it should be
I am close to my body
I am close to myself.

We are all just taking steps
Toward whom it is
We long to be:

We're only trying to be ourselves
The best we can
Full, whole,
Unbroken--

I do not think
my journey
Is so very Different
from Yours.

The world is all at once too bright as the vernal awakes me.
I shake and shudder as I broach the air--
Spring is coming to make me restless
The ennui returns--
I try to unfold my soul, but it flails itself open haphazardly
I am mad to reach outside myself.
The sunshine begins to pervade me and I mourn the shade of winter,
But I drink in the day's luster like sweet wine,
Eagerly, despite its strength.
I beg the balance come,
Ask for something hard and cold in the midst of this mellow reverie:
For I am balance,
And without the cold,
I will become cold.
But it gives none,
None but warm contentment;
Begging me to join it in its repose.

I realized though,
It's not about being so special.
I'm not so special
I may have been your first
I sure won't have been your last
You weren't mine, either
I don't know why I cared so much
I guess I was still hanging on
But i don't know--
I'm okay to be alone;
I'm a tough person to be with:
I'm a tough person to figure out;
I'm a tough person to carry..

I worked it out some time ago:
I think that people support each other
And some lean on each other with both arms and a leg,
And others with just an arm.
It's the same support, you see,
Some just fall harder.
Well, I only lean with one arm.
And so did you

But here's the thing:
Those who lean with less
We don't fall
So
Hard--

But we'll fall away easily
Because we aren't so scared of
standing



                               Alone.



But I'm so big...
That I reckon I'm pretty heavy, anyway
Even just leaning a little on you;
Even just placing
            My Head
                          On Your shoulder--
                          w||||||||||||||||||
        ­­                a |||||||||||||||||||
                   r |||||||||||||||||||||
             m |||||||||||||||||||||||
                                    s |||||||||||||
                                 a ||||||||||||||
                                f |||||||||||||||
                                 e ||||||||||||||
contentment--

But, Darling, I'm the whole universe.
And who doesn't fall out of love with the world
At one time...
                                                    Or another?

I don't blame you;
It took me a long time to fall in love with me too-
And a long time to get to know me-
You're a good sport, you know.
For letting me stay while I did.
Because I'm so huge,
If you saw me in the full,
The sight may overwhelm you;
Crush you--

And I reckon everyone else is this big, too
And they just don't know it,
So they seem like nicer, smaller-
Fun-size.
I'd like to be a fun size.

I wish...
              .
               .
                .
              ........
          ..........................
    ­  .............................................   
  (.....................................................)
    (I could fit ..............................)
       (In the palm ...................)
               (Of your hand-)

Then you could hold me. :)

But I don't mind.
Because I'm still so tiny in the endlessness-------------
All this which I am a part of---
But I am a tiny fraction.

I don't need to be special.
I watch as you do our things with her.
She fills my place nicely--
The spaces between your fingers,
The circle of your arms,
The curve of your belly.
And you're so happy, love.
That smile I love shines because of her.

I will keep going,
And I will carry my self,
And if ever you or anyone else can bear the chaos of it;
Can find the melodies in my cacophony;
Tune in to the point that it sings Coherent;
Can back up and breathe in
The expanse of Me,
And love it;
And comprehend it as I can,
Then I will grab their hand.
And I will raise them up.
And I will raise them up as much as i can,
And support them as much as i'm able:

Because I know you're all huge too.
A person who has lived.
The most
Complicated thing.
We are
We each are.

I suppose I could worry you'd be too heavy for me as well

But I don't worry.
Life is short.
I'm ready for the challenge.
I want in;
Come down on me,
Open yourself up
And pour yourself over me--

You'll be huge,
And you'll keep flowing,
Indefinitely--
Onto my shoulders,
Into my eyes,
Into my head.

You'll be heavy but-
Never a burden.

I love you
And I want
To see you......


I always want to support everyone,
But those who See me are different:
For you must know how to swim
When i become the deepest sea...

Don't get me wrong.
I'm not that much.
But I am whole.
And it's strange to be so
When the world tells us
That everything,
Everyone,
Is just one
One.
One thing.

Well, I am one thing.
I just am not a "common" combination:
I am dark and light and wise and naive and big and small and loud and soft and proud and humble.
It's impossible to grasp!
No, love.
It isn't.

I've done it.

And whatever combination you are,
I will take in the full of it.

But when I say love,
I can no longer mean you.
For you have gone,
And I have let you go

Because I must.

                     Never hold captive
                       A traveling soul.

I pray that one day
I'll be enough
For someone other than me--
Not even a lover, in necessary.
But i'd like to fit
Inside of someone else
And to give them something to hold on to..
I'd like to be there for someone.
Really, fully, completely and wholely and entirely
There.

For them.

If i could touch one person
In a loving embrace of the mind

To make us both thankful
For the gift of Time
All over again...

Then I realized:
Life is as desperate for me
As I am for it.

In the end
I am nothing but what I said
And what I didn't.