To transition is to attend your own funeral time and time again in hopes of allowing yourself the delicacy of being truly known
Identity becomes a public affair and day to day life reads like a eulogy
Imagine you are the corpse, the coffin, and the church your body rests in
You haven't lost yourself just, killed that version and put her inside a box for only her dearly beloved to see
You now become the house in which they’re prepping her body for eternal sleep
You are the final destination
The one stop shop for little girls who become boys overnight
I became him over night and the next morning i wrote her eulogy
Its been almost five years since girl became boy and i am still giving her eulogy
I am speaking of a little girl to people that only know the grown man she died to be and i am so incredibly tired of doing so
I see family and the remnants of the little girl i was believed to be and i am forced to take part in their mourning
Every day feels like the day after you lose someone you loved
There are bits and pieces of her around my house, and my mind, and even my body but she is gone
She has been gone for almost five years and i am still attending her funeral
There is no longer a corpse, coffin, and church just a man her memories rest in
I am the man her memories rest in yet i put her to rest long ago
I need the world to do the same, for my dearly beloved to do the same
For we are gathered here today not to mourn the loss of a daughter, a sister, or niece
We are here to celebrate the gaining of a son, a brother, and a nephew
I am celebrating the birth of me and giving her eulogy in the same breath and i am tired of doing so
See i am left carrying the grief of a person who still exists
I exist
Changed but still present, still breathing
There never was a corpse, a coffin, or a church
There was only ever me, my body, and the world around me

If I were a fire, and you were my candle,
I might burn your body,
then illuminate every dark space
and make it bright;
even if it doesn't reach everything,
at least we haven't gone astray
for a while.

If I were a fire, and you were my candle,
we would burn at every celebration,
in birthday or wedding cakes.

If I were a fire, and you were my candle,
we would be a farewell gift,
and leave a scar on every melt.

Accomplishment
Milestones
Completion...of a step

What does it mean to be done
Is there such a thing?

Sometimes the moment of doneness passes by
                 Invisible
Revealed only in hindsight

Savor the moments
Of completion
Accomplishment
Being done

Even if only of this step

The best laid plans can always go awry
So celebrate along the way

Celebrate the effort
The intention
The support you receive

Doneness as you expected may never come to pass
If it does
You will more concretely see
                                                    all the steps it took to get there

Either way
We all benefit
From celebrating milestones
All the steps along the way

Whether that means dreaming an idea
Or completing a voyage
Across a sea
Intact

One full year with what feels like a lifetime full of twists and turns, tears and burns.
One full year and you’ve made your arms and chest home to me.
One full year of sacrificial love — undeserved.

My huckleberry friend, with whom would I rather share my sun-drenched and, at times, reckless youth? Always in all ways, with you.

My beautiful solace, who’s courageous enough to break through my darkest clouds? It’s you — through and through.

Who has been to me a bridge over troubled waters? None but you, no, none but you.  

And whose love accepts, gives, and forgives time and time again? No man, but you. My love, only you.

One full year of knowing and adoring you evermore each day.

I celebrate my little steps,
They lead to great success,
Cause usually we move our legs
A bit, but go so far beyond the fence.

I get so proud of my own self,
And add another piece of puzzle,
And with the greatness of that sense,
I finish picture without struggle.

But let me honestly confess
It wasn't always so and wasn't better.
I used to often get obsessed,
Each mile didn't use to matter.

I ran a lot to catch the train,
The rest turned blurred and gray,
And if I tripped, get back again
Was painful, and cause of it, today...

I celebrate my little steps,
They lead to great success

Small rings in her ears

are festive, and big earrings --


even more festive.

A father of our nation
A father of determination
A light to the children that brighten the dark days
A man who destined freedom
through strive and struggle

A man of courage
who spoke words that lift the spirits of:
mothers who give births in squatter camps,
the homeless and parentless children,
and life prisoners

He is Rolihlahla which meant troublesome
but he was a peace maker
He fought to make a difference
Whenever life put him to the ground
He stood up every time and ran to his people

Utata Nelson Mandela

I have sought love.

I have sought love in many places,
the wrong places I should say.

Mistreated
Misunderstood
Betrayed

A ****
A *****
Useless
Daddy issues
That is what I was called.

I have sought love and all I gave away was myself
I was selfless.
Did not have any expectations
Did not have any guaranty of how long it would last
All I wanted was to be loved and to be heard.

I have sought love and on my third fall
I felt hard that I had no other choice but to love myself.
I fell so hard, I was heard, I was understood, I was not judged.
I fell in love with myself and I was truly grateful because fulfillment came from within.
I fell in love and disappointments became life lessons.
I fell in love and achievements became lifetime celebrations.

I fell in love and saw no purpose in a man.