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Ren Sturgis Mar 2021
****.
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 *****.
Nov, 2020
Ren Sturgis Mar 2021
#T
In my hands I hold a pen, not a needle, but a pen.
Oh how I wish it were the needle.
Both hold the expression to that which I hold dearly.
For it's not just a pen or a needle that I hold;
It is me!
Eli Jan 2021
Boy
Am I
a boy?

or

Is my mind
a toy?
My realization of being trans came about a few days ago.  I affectively came out to myself in another poem I published here.  But, I'm still dealing with doubts and wondering whether or not I'm faking or if the answer I've stumbled across is wrong.
Eli Jan 2021
Sir
There was
a time
I got called
"Sir"

And
unexpectedly so
I floated to
the top of
The World.

Why?

Why did that happen?

Don't say it.

The answer's
pricked me with
a sharp pin.

Everyone else
that knows
has poked at it.

But
I guess
this is what
you call
denial.

Euphoria comes.

But
I stuff it down.
Try to forget.

Then
I accuse myself
of not knowing
who I Am.

When really,
I'm afraid
of the answer.

Of what it means
and
being wrong

But
maybe I shouldn't
give a ****.

What if
this is
the thing
I need to do?

What if
this is
My Path
to being strong?
E Jan 2021
little me, why so sorrow?
what makes you disconnect?

seeing your body in pictures
sent shivers down your neck
the rhythmic beating
pounding as an alarm
body restless
when will you get rest then?

little me, you waited quite a while
family's opinions turned vile
it didn't matter much
you never connected
only as much as
a charger is to phone

escapism buried her
when he could be online
reversing roles and affirming yourself
only gained so much self help
a tool to be unlocked

little me, you had blocks in front of you
you played with them as trial
until they weren't meanwhile
so what did it mean to you?
what did you learn?
how did you grow?
what did you learn?

little me, you're too young to understand
one day you'll find who I am
we've always been together
tight knit and forever
don't lose the game of cards  
unless you want your graveyard
Saw a picture of myself from about 6 or 7 years ago and felt inclined to write a message to myself then. If I met a younger version of myself, I wouldn't have told them everything that's happened so far. I would've just asked them why they do the things they do, and to think critically. having exposure to internet was great, but it did rot my mind.
Arden Dec 2020
I have a crush on death
And it's growing every day

                 I grab the bottle

Maybe its time to slip away
Into the darkness
Let the pain swallow me up

                 I take off the top

My thoughts would slow and
Soften to a hum

                 I reach for the rope

My eyes would close for the last time
I never have to see myself again

                  I tie the noose

How wonderful it would be
To never have another thought
To never hear my voice again
To finally make it stop

                  I revise my note
  . .
   . .
    . .

But
This is just a reckless fantasy
A way to elude reality

                  I put the bottle away
                  I untie the rope
                  I place the note with the others

        Take a deep breath and
        Keep these moments to myself
not sure how i feel about the ending
E Dec 2020
Dysphoria is lifting a hot cup of bare black coffee to your lips
It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth and third degree burns on your skin

It's one of the strongest romances I've had
She stalks wherever and whenever
Yet when pools of blood start to pour
Subsequently from slashes on my wrist
A smile stands tall on my brim

The story of hypocrisy beyond comprehension
How could a human find themselves in obsession
With disorders more dangerous than inventions
And still hold empathy in question

Truth is,
Despotic relations fueled with dissonant expectations
Transcend into deeper feelings of euphoria
Barbwire grappling my throat for seconds that feel like years
But then the pressure suddenly decreases
I'm left with rusted thorns and gaping flesh
Undoubtely grateful to stay alive
Relief washes over and taking a breath feels heavenly
As the opportunity to face demons comes again
The chances of overcoming rise above my head

Hazard and danger don't become horror anymore
If you take it by the throat and butcher it first
Growing into a body you dislike
while everyone is having the best time of their lives
you can't help but feel envy
people can show more skin than you do
because you hide in fabric that binds
people can go about daily conversations
you can't due to anxiety on how your voice sounds
people can walk into bathrooms without thinking
while some wonder if they'll be assaulted simply for being different

the presence of dysphoria hinders the quality of life
it's painful.
it leaves you jealous and scarred.
and the presence of euphoria reverses every horror of dysphoria and slams it on its head.
euphoria makes you feel ****, empowered, powerful.
Anxiety and stress erase while you feel radical and loathe in self-love for how you've crafted yourself to feel happy.

The existence of hate and how I am expected to accept it into my life, turning it upside down and under, makes euphoria even more satisfactory. The feelings of radicalness I feel will never be felt by a cis person. They do not hold the same roles to accept that their life will be miserable and unlovable on the basis of gender identity.
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