Are my feet too big for my body?
Because I feel that the gravitational force on it
Centers me too hard to the ground
And it’s hard to lift either one to progress

Are my hands unilateral of each other?
Because it feels like every time that I reach for yours
The other one reaches for an object to grab hold of behind me
Just to keep me anchored

Are my eyes too wide for my blocky head?
Because I feel like whenever I have a goal and a focus
My limbs swing wildly at everything else
Grasping for distraction on anything of interest

my love for him is wholehearted, however, it seems like i can't love him correctly anymore?
i can't put my arms around his waist, or touch his chest, or hold him certain ways.
i used to be understanding when it came to the lack of p.d.a because i agreed that it was inappropriate.
but, now, i feel like the girl that he just holds on to because he feels like no one else will accept him how he is.
under the binder, behind the socks in his underwear.
i don't care which gender he is because i fell in love with who he is at heart.
but anymore, i'm scared his heart is changing.
his mind definitely is, from putting on mascara 6 months ago to trying to make a shadow.
i am understanding.
i am loving.
but i am not benevolent.
or all-knowing.
but who knew loving someone unconditionally would come with so many conditions?

Laying alone in my bed
******* in the dark
******* sending scathing ripples
Across my covered female anatomy
And yet in my mind I didn't see that
I pictured myself with women
Which I always attributed to
My hella queer identity
Except I was never myself in the fantasies
My friend told me that's why I couldn't ******
Because I needed to make the thoughts
Much more personal than that
Yet it didn't feel the same
As watching the strangers in ****
In my fantasies, I wasn't me
But I also was
I felt synonymous with the person I saw
I imagined feeling what they felt
But they had a *****
I did not
I thought it was just a kink
I don't think that anymore

Just before college
I started dressing more masculine
Prior to that I struggled hard
With my attempts at femininity
It never felt right
I was never comfortable
And this one time
My mom walked into my room
Just as I broke down crying
Because someone thought I was hot
In a pink outfit with makeup on
They said I should wear that more often
My mom asked why I was so upset
And I couldn't explain it to her
I really didn't know
I just knew that that "compliment"
Burned into a deep portion of my soul
It hurt me so intensely
Because some part of me knew
That the person in that photo
Was not me

When I was a kid
I used to lip-sync in the mirror
Dancing around and
Breathing in the words
Even back then
Nothing inspired me more than music
Interestingly though
It could only be songs by men
I could still jam to women's songs
But I couldn't watch myself do it
It gave me a lot of anxiety to see
Those beautiful feminine voices
Matched to the way my mouth moved
I didn't understand it back then

You've tried everything in the book,
but nothing ever seems to work
you just can't achieve that long-desired look.
Let it all flow out in artwork,
if no one else will look at you like that.

comparing bodies
a (never) once (never) over
from across the room
sizing you up, i have
such a kink
for everything your body is

such a kink
for comparing you to me

such a kink
if kinks were self esteem

such a kink
for everything i can’t be

but **** do i feel good
when your body covers mine;
being blanketed
in hopeless aspiration,
it feels sublime
this perspiration,
when i can’t feel the weight of what i lack

only the bulk of what you’ve got

There are red makes etched imto my flesh,
and I am finding it harder to breathe afresh
underneath the layers of painful bandages.
Still my ribs ache and sting when they push through my skin, but can't push through that final layer hiding me.
I can't comcentrate on the lessons,
the words are a blur and the faces are obscured by tears,
but I will not stop because the pain of facing my body is even worse.

Everyone is shouting in my ears,
pulling them and stretching them to ensure I really hear,
but it goes in that ear and out the other.
If this means broken ribs and sickness,
then so be it,
because still the pain will be worth it.