body in a rage blood bubbles rummaging horns begin to make an entertrance howls of shrieking agony veins shattering with pupils dilated and saliva trailing down my crimson stained lips your best bet is to run. get the **** away from me.
my body is a topic that trails the mouths of a family at dinner it is the trail of saliva that leaves shortly after breaking a heated kiss always leaving a bitter taste
but when did you taste me? when did I crawl into your mouth full of cavities?
existing as I am cements chains in people's root canals a topic for discussion my life to debate trans people being the forefront it is so inconvenient and sinful and yet its the flavor on their seething lips
kissing one another trailing more saliva knowingly trading hate with ones mind and lips integrating more citizens and normalizing their behavior
pieces of my puzzle are aligning trauma and enlightenment go well together it seems as though once you've hit rock bottom the very top feels like heaven
a walking contradiction how do you go from wanting to die to living your life with authenticity
pieces fitting in shapes never seen before pieces shifting sizes finishing the next assignment
a life on hold holds very little to me
finishing my next task is today but what is for tomorrow? craving more isn't selfish it's fulfilling questions make me contemplative unable to sleep at night thoughts running for more the adrenaline keeping me alive
pieces of my puzzle can break apart pieces deceive me and don't actually fit it is a lesson to look more closely
a piece has appeared it's unclear where it goes where it starts where it ends it will belong in due time
hello, it has been a long while since I published anything publicly. I've made one or two works this whole year in private but not a whole lot. poetry is relieving for me when I fall into depressive states not so much when I'm stable. But I am starting a new chapter in my life.
i thought that discovering who i was would come as a relief. i thought that (as foolish as it was) i would live in a world of bright lights and love, acceptance and home. but no. it came in the form of a trial of the heart, held by the conscience. it came in the form of hatred and fear, towards myself and others. it came with a world of danger, a world pitted against my being. it came with guilt, convulsing inside me, giving me bad posture. it came in the blood running down my arms, my legs it came with pain. it was Pandora's box: The Sequel and in the place of hope was joy. but I can't allow myself to feel that yet.
Guess I'll just go and hide myself behind a letter, such a simple way to sail through life. Turn an F in to an M instead of telling the whole truth I'm hiding from. There was no way I lied to you, you were the one who chose to ignore the truth.
I sit inside a body in blood that isnt my own. There are voices calling out a name, a name attached to this vessel. It's not mine. I am conscious of my state, this sentience pains me. I know what's out there. I know my potential, what I could be. This barrier of skin and blood prevents me. It hurts. I'll sit in this shell of a body to be perceived by those who happen to pass by. Wading in blood that isnt my own, with skin like marble begging to be carved into, and I won't mind. This body isnt my body, my body is inside.
I wrote this inspired by a nightmare I had once, where I was trapped in the shell of a plastic gargoyle, sitting in blood that I knew wasn't mine. Looking back on it, my brain was probably trying to make sense of my feelings, but the nightmare has stuck with me.
****. This *****. Voice dysphoria is a *****, they weren't lying when they said that second puberty really hits. Every time I try to sing it cracks and ****. Wake up every morning sounding sick. I just want a deep voice like corpse. But instead I just sound like a pony, a little hoarse. ****. This *****.