Bleeding palms blood like a river, down his arms breathing heavy broken glass inside his bones. Bad news has never felt this deadly. He will never be the daughter you want, he sobs into his pillow at night muffling the sincerity of wishing he could be what they wanted. Late nights watching transitioning videos after a year she could be taken as a man and that is all she wants. His girlfriend tells him she hopes with all her might he won't be the man he feels inside. Trent. Her tongue slithers over every letter with a distasteful feeling in her mouth. Her head shakes "no, you are Tory to me. You are her. I cannot love you if you are him" bullets fired ricochet his chest he holds as if having been stabbed multiple times with a rusted dull butter knife. Pour salt on every wound scrub with mothers perfume nightly like the prayer ritual he can't keep up with. The perfume is the closest he will ever be to being a she. He was born in the body with a girlish figure . his chest denies him the right to be called trent. 23. That's how long the statistics say I'll live to be . 23 nobody cares if your 23, maybe 21 or even by chance 22 but nobody gives a rats *** if you die at age 23. 23..... That would mean before I ever fully get to be him I will know death as a close companion. I am trent, my pronouns are confusing to you because you don't see the bigger picture. Their hands tied together like vines wrap around my mouth and whisper " keep him in" they yell selfish profanities that you are the evil one. I am trent, seventeen is such a young age to be thinking about how I will die. 23 that's how long I'm expected to live. He will never be the daughter they wanted she never existed and now she's stuck tying ace bandage around the ******* she can't seem make invisible. Ace bandage is not what this is suppose to be used for. His ribs crack and he smiles, the breath he can barely take is worth being the man he is. Whites of eyes no remaining life he will only live to be age 23 and death has already got the grasp on him. I am trent, blood spilling windpipe giving out drowning with the last words I am trent. Nobody cares if you die at age 23