I'm not a real girl, just a tranny
Cis boys don't like me
Unless they chase, but I'm no bait.
Unless you let me
Whip it out and look in your eyes.
Unless you stare
Back with fire skipping my life.
Not a real girl
Just a tranny
I'm missing a hole
If that's what keeps
Me unseen, then
I don't need
We all have a forbidden apple.
The fruit that we know will poison us with one bite-
You are mine.
I stand in the forbidden garden and stretch to reach for you.
My hands shake, as I know it is wrong.
I know you are toxic,
Yet, I pick you from the branch, and like Snow White, I take a bite.
The day you walked up to me and said hello, I didn’t yet know,
How truly tragic the outcome would be.
You brought me upon your wings and up we rose, into the clouds that clouded my thoughts and concealed your true colors.
On this day I had no idea who you were,
I knew not your intentions,
and so my feelings grew stronger.
Everyone says “no.”
They say they know what is right.
You are dangerous, they say,
But I cannot help but take another bite.
How could I ever walk away from you,
When you are the only one that makes the butterflies flutter in my stomach and fly to my heart?
One look at your blinding sunlight and the backs of my eyelids are burned,
with blue dots that take the shape of you.
How I long to join in on your game.
Cave in to your sweet, thick, chocolate words.
As the chocolate melts, so do I.
But words aren’t sweet if not spoken from the heart.
Your words are empty;
artificial and hollow.
I find this hard to remember.
Every word you say screams “stop.”
I ignore this, I only hear the words you whisper from the depths of my daydreams.
In hidden messages you tell me you will never love me,
just as you could never love her.
You are incapable of showing true emotion, unable to open your mind to the possibility of something real.
Yet, I take my heart from my chest and place it into your hands, weak as you drain my power.
You are cold,
You are selfish.
You don’t care for me,
You didn’t care for her,
and you won’t care about the next one either.
How does it feel? To know this truth, and know that I know it too?
How does it feel to be up in the stars, the only planet that I orbit?
The only face in my washed up, weary eyed dreams that disappear in morning light?
I cannot escape you.
Every step I take away from you brings me closer.
The waterfalls of tears fall from my eyes and create rainbows in yours.
Your rainy day attitude is the cloud that hangs above me.
Your storm never stops,
It rains down on the trees that the apples don’t fall far from.
I have wavered, almost escaped.
Others come and go, but the pull of your gravity makes it impossible to step away.
Dangerous love is the most intriguing of all.
In a heartbeat, I choose you over safety.
I can see the end, I know it is near.
I know they are right.
I will no longer be the one.
You’ll decide to play a new game and cast me to the side, the forgotten memory that never gets played.
You will find someone new to replace me,
Just as I replaced her so little time ago.
Your cycle is more predictable than the rain.
You are forbidden fruit,
I have never been the apple of your eye.
You are just living life you say.
What a life that must be, meddling with the feelings of others.
You are a tornado and yet I continue to look past your path of destruction.
Uprooted trees and piled up cars,
Your hurricane of actions causes earthquakes around me, yet somehow I am still standing.
Why do we always reach for that apple?
The one with the mushy brown spots and the rotten core.
You may be poisonous,
But for now, my desire for you remains pure.
Day of sheets you muse my memory, running threw my head.
180 naps and interesting facts left unknow.
Our pe class was fited with classical clothes.
Mythology, history math and English are your favorites.
Seriously, you are so nice many would find your style as hippy.
Picked at last for volley ball, as other's strick poses so deliciously.
Joking as planets are always figuring and plotting.
The graph is made of tiny boxes as a pyramid is a corner of it.
Retention, is irony of a elegant mirage, likely a dizzy superstition, of snow.
School of visions calculator of success
Hollow she preens.
Forever correcting herself before her own glass ceiling.
Like routine examinations throughout the day to ensure she is in working order.
Though she is falling apart.
Hair is too flat and makeup runs away.
She is beautiful.
I could never bring myself to tell her.
Though I long for her to know that she and I do not see eye to eye.
Yet, she is the apple of mine.
So we'll both remain in misery.
And miles apart.
There is juice
The flesh of the apple
As my predator eyes
Lick the drops
And slip down
The light green side
I am hungry
so I bite deep and fiercely
letting the sweet pleasure
In my frenzy
I bite to deeply,
on the ground before me;
Hoping a tree
so I can be
like Johnny Appleseed,
the progenitor of a new
delicious American dream.