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E Jun 18
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.
E Jan 5
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.
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.
E Dec 2020
I don't know what I am anymore
I'm too self obsessed not to care
as if I don't pass by a mirror every hour and stroke my ****** hair
standards of cis normativity never make sense
they don't make sense more than ever
why be like everyone else
when I'm already the outcast
whats the point to stop expression
whats the point to expression?
of my experience
of my encounters
of my existence
my identity will be radical
with or without cis validation
my happiness is resistance
with or without standards
we were not meant to fit in
so outgrowing it is suitable
Questioning my identity as a trans male and how I fit into society. Although I do not identify as my ***, AFAB, that does not mean I align with male roles, neither male expectations. I align more masculine and am repulsed by being misgendered, but can embrace femininity now that I see myself the way I've viewed myself for over ten years.
yann Dec 2020
i used to only love women and it felt like being so alone,
like not bringing your date to family gatherings by fear of
seeing the disapproval
in their eyes, in their mouths, in their words,
felt like being both the predator and the prey,
looking at hands and wanting to hold them and fearing that
the world would swallow me whole
if i did.

and now i love you, probably,
and what am i, if not lost,
unable to be contained in F or Ms,
unfit for any of your definitions,
ready to change my body just so i can stand to walk past mirrors and live my truth.
and loving a man feels much the same after all,
dangerous and real, like craving different hands
but knowing the world still has its mouth grand open,
just for me.
going from identifying as a lesbian to realizing im tranasc and probably a little in love with all my closest friends no matter their gender.. and realizing how terrifying it all is !
Nico Judd Oct 2020
Daddy Nico is strong
Momma Nico is stronger

Daddy Nico is an emotional flight risk
Momma Nico will wrap you in her arms and rock you while you weep

Daddy Nico’s heart is behind glass
Momma Nico had to break it in order to live

Momma Nico birthed two children
Daddy Nico wept when they were born

Momma Nico keeps their ***** in line
Daddy Nico scrolls facebook while they play in the sprinkler

Momma Nico does dishes, washes floors, folds laundry, scrubs toilets, wipes spills, pays bills, dust.sweep.mop.clean aaaaand repeat
Daddy Nico mows the lawn, plumbs the sink, takes out trash, builds you a bike, hammers, strips, sands, paints aaaaand works hard to keep this ******* roof over your head

Momma Nico won’t cook
Daddy Nico don’t kiss no boo boos

Daddy Nico sips whiskey
Momma Nico gulps Rosé  

Momma Nico knits
Daddy Nico hits up strip clubs (and sometimes *******)

Momma Nico likes girls and boys
Daddy Nico realllly likes girls

Daddy Nico wears Carhartts and gets drunk in the garage
Momma Nico wears lingerie and makes you feel like a man
Written August 24, 2020
kaehaniya Sep 2020
awkward questions, awkward stares
told that i'm putting on airs
written out of all the prayers
i don't fit into the squares
Bedroom’s painted fisherman’s blue

There’s a cut out of Hayden Panettiere naked in a pink bikini with a hula-hoop on the back of the door

Copies of British Vogue desperately hidden underneath the bed accompanying an empty bottle of Glen’s

Manchester United duvet cover and matching pillows to boot

The bin’s filled with pre-packed home-made lunches from the last six months

Wardrobes a collection of ill fitting blue jeans bought for me by grandmother and football jerseys for teams that I’ve never even heard of, yet let alone see play a single game

Uniform ironed and sitting out ready for school on Monday at 8am sharp

***** clothes cover mostly all the floor smelling of Lynx’s finest even though there’s an empty laundry basket just waiting in the corner to be used

Inside one of the woolen blazer’s (that is way too big for me) pockets a single unopened ****** and an AES 256-bit encrypted USB stick

An old PlayStation 2, with a single controller; games including FIFA years through 2004 to now, Tom Clancy’s Splinter Cell, and GTA.

Blood red shoplifted lipstick that’s now melted hidden in the little secret compartment at the back, meant for network expansion.

Artemis Fowl, Alex Rider, and Harry Potter all adorn the bookcase

Physics, Maths, and IT textbooks remain firmly closed on the desk in addition to a smashed phone from me and Daddy’s last “physical altercation”

Lady Gaga’s “I Like it Rough” is playing in the background on repeat…
letters to basil Jul 2020
dear quinn,

goodbyes are hard
but staying will be harder
just let go

it's okay

changing my name. it's a journey. much love

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