She’s highness, deaf but not muted.
Still dignified, past perfect, but still pushing.
Withering tea addict,
laughs at her own sophisticated and immature jokes.
Farts.
How the highness gracefully descend.

Relaxed, reclined,
hands placed still on abdomen, yet they’re itching.
Noisy breaths lift her sinking body,
till she’s plastered to the bed,
not quite motionless.
Can’t decline.
Sits up. Peering, active, but stunted.

hold on, wait, what, what similarities?

I sit in the group looking around, the grey plastic chair crushes my ******* spine as I cling to it for dear life.
the tutor comes to me last, two weeks in a row I don't get time to talk.
great, I'm already an outsider, now I don't get time to talk.

I listen as the group in the nicer, cosier and brighter room next door laugh and joke.
they are all young and pretty, a feeling of longing pulls me down like a giant magnet, why am I not in that group. have I not got the skills to be young and pretty anymore?

for almost one month now I despair.
how can I ever find my voice in this group there are all so strong, strong women.
this week she comes to me first, I speak, it doesn't help. can they even see me, understand my accent, it seems I'm more different than similar.

the next week I don't go, avoidance wins 1st place gold trophy as I sit alone in bed.
with other groups I'm so strong and proud, can I fake it next week, or maybe just conform and comply.

and so it goes on, am my question remains, what ****** similarities?

We've grown so quiet over the years
hiding behind our illusions of fear.
My fingers have grown so long
these are not the hands I've come to know.

Perhaps we stood in the rain too much
now the water has cleansed us of mud,
but standing naked in an empty field
will only remind you of how cold you now feel.

If I could have one more wish,
I'd wish to become the wallpaper, miss;
We'd lose our body, our mind and our thoughts
and just stand in the room observing a spot.

How can I ever look forward
if my future's decided beforehand.
Time is a double-edged sword
and we will all soon soar

Seventeen-year old boy
With oestrogen caught in his chest,
With flags that he wears like a crest,
Defining his torture with pink and blue stripes
Boy,
Hiding in plain sight

Sixteen year old "girl",
Asked what she wants for her birthday,
Lost for words, she has nothing to say
"On my birthday I want to not
Feel dysphoria" Replies filled with sighs and a nod
Girl,
Faking her smiles,
Pretending she's fine
When she hears the word "Girl"

Ten year old "boy",
He's sick of hearing the difference,
Sick of the snickers and whispers that call him
"Tomboy"
As if he's only half-trying
As if he doesn't hide, crying,
He doesn't know who he is,
But he's sick of criticisms
Because
He's not girly enough,
But not boyish enough,
And everyone insists, one day you'll grow up
And you'll be a real girl
A n d  
           I
Was, for a while,
I learned how to smile,
With genuine contentment, I thought
I am enough...

But then I grew up.

Existing in a spinning circle
Of washed up wanted dreams
Living in this surreal of awful
As nightmares exhale primal screams

Ripping up the wasted minutes
Like trash discarded in the bin
Barely glimpsed, as the door shuts
Moments of what could have been

Life becomes a faded hue
In this dazzling world of wonder
You search for what you once knew
Before infant dreams were torn asunder

But enchanted ever afters
Live only in childhood play
They dissolve in children’s laughter
As age slowly melts the magic away

But I want to find the magic spell to say
Which will bring the enchantments back
So I can believe, before I’m old and grey
That ever afters can be a happy fact

I am ageing,
It's just a number,
The number of candles have increased on my birthday cake.
I have got heavier,
The width of my waist has increased,
There are wrinkles where my smiles were,
I pole dance with the safety bar in the bathtub,
Every time I cough or sneeze my radiator leaks,
My exhaust backfires,
I tend to forget,
I am not perfect,
But, I don't care.
I have become more compelling,
I am more silent,
More wiser , more smiling,
With greater intuition.
My mind is a fountain of  youth,
I am fun,
I am now background music,
I am soothing
My family and their friends connect to me,
I fuel their soul,
They feel safe.
I may be an old model but my engine still runs smoothly.

Do you remember,
When we ran the world?
We were the king and queen
Of a dominion, so big and true,
The central of which was a eucalypt stump
Guarded by a broken, barbed wire fence

Do you remember,
When we thought
We’d never get older
And we’d never grow apart
Only closer?

I miss those halcyon days
Afternoons and mornings
Under a great blue sky
Back when we ran the world
Because the world we always knew
Was so small and tiny
Just like our minds and bodies

Our problems seem so close
And these youthful days seem so far away
But I remember them so dearly
With every breath of gust carrying
The pure scent of fresh mown grass
And with every taste of orange juice
I hope you cherish them as well
Because they mean the world to me

And I still dream of these days
Both waking and through the night
Where I can live untroubled once more
By your side, hand in hand
Against the villainy of getting older
Even though it’s the inevitable fate

All crowns rust in the unavoidable years
Which come and go
With changes unprecedented
But embraced with an adult acceptance
Because we aren’t children anymore
We aren’t in a playground dominion
Along a beaten path and in the shade

Our reign is over, and I no longer know
The faces who have taken our places
But I hope you know
I thank you for the memories
They were so sweet and innocent
And even as we got older
And our feelings grew stranger,
I believe we’ll always have our days
As kings and queens
In our little-big dominion
So long as we always remember