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.

I smash my skull against the wall
when I hear you call
that name as if it is mine
because every day it hurts a little bit worse
and the realization sinks in that I will never be who I feel I am.

do you know what it’s like
to feel like you live
in the cage?

do you know what it’s like
to hate what you see
in the mirror?

do you know what it’s like
to flinch when you hear
your voice?

do you know what it’s like
to break down in the bathroom
and cry into sleep?

do you know what it’s like
when you are
in the wrong body?

do you know,
what it's like,
to hate yourself,
but not just your face,
your entire body.
you look at your skin and it's much too pale,
you look at your chest and it makes your eyes bleed,
you'd gladly rip those out, pain and all,
I've considered it before,
to **** myself up so that they can be gone.

when your face doesn't match,
the way you wish,
then your voice interrupts your speech,
and you hate it so much,
you hate it so much.

you hate it so much.

you hate it so much.
you'd gladly go mute,
to make sure no one knows what you sound like.
if I'm lucky I might get them all gone
but I don't know how one can stay sane with all these flaws.

My chest hurts,
it hurts so much.
my body hurts,
it hurts so much.
My chest hurts,
it hurts so much.
my body hurts,
it hurts so much.
because of these,
alien things on top of me,
get rid of them for me,
won't you please?

dysphoria
days nights and years
dysphoria
days nights and years
days nights and years