It is impossible to measure the depths of my scabs,
And I wonder if they are truly healing over
Or if I have simply picked at them anew.
I tel myself,
"You cannot see the new tissue underneath as it grows."

She asked for help,
But nobody was willing to believe her
Society told her to shut up and deal with it
Society stole her voice and hoped she would be compliant
But she is a warrior,
And her voice unwavering

3am and abruptly, I'm awoken
By yet another flashback
Accompanied by a throbbing headache
Reminding me I'm broken
But that's nothing but a bed of roses
Compared to the knives I had to endure with him
Two, four, six, not even ten
Pills of acetaminophen
Put me back to sleep
In my agony I lay back
Struggling not to relive the experience
But again I feel hands that creep
And explore my unwilling body
Ripping me of my wings
Leaving me all ******
My heart's pounding
My body's burning
Oh God! Does this ever end?
I guess not
Maybe its true trauma lasts forever
Because it's been 12 months
And it's been haunting me ever since

Audacity is when your ****** texts you
To wish you a Happy New Year
Because his therapist advised him to make amends.
The price of breaking my soul
Is more than a ******* text.

i want to shave my legs, i want to be a girl again
i want to be like you, i want to be feminine
i want to be pretty, i want to wear pink
i want to pluck my eyebrows, i want to wear a dress

i want to paint my nails, i want to wear lipstick
i want to have the softest skin, i want to wear the pinkest blush

i want to write queer poetry, i want to write love songs
i want to be gay, i want to be a lesbian
i want to write about your *****
i want to write about my lack of a *****

i want to wear cute glasses — i have cute glasses
i want my hair to fall down to my lower back
i want to tuck it behind my ears
i want to put it in pigtails, i want to wear it in a scrunchie

i want to be a feminist
i want to be an intersectional feminist
i want to be an angry feminist

i don’t want to suffer under patriarchy
i don’t want to be told to be quiet a man is talking
i don’t want to be told to smile
i don’t want to be stared at with beady eyes
i don’t want to be *****
i don’t want to feel unsafe

i want to feel free, i want to be me
i want to be published
i want to win poetry prizes
i want to show trans girls that we can do anything

She deserved it.
Everyone agrees with me.
The signals mixing with the cocktails
and I don't even know what time it is.

She had it coming.
Her parents told her so.
I was acting like any guy would. Should.
Skin taunting. Hips hypnotising me with
That rhythmic pulsing
Suggesting
Requesting.

She wanted it.
How was I supposed to know
when she bit her
lip that way, flirted that
way, smiled that
way, dressed
that
way
asked
for
it.

She did it to herself.
It's not my fault.
That's the way things are, right?

Don’t look at me with his **** in your throat
I don’t have the heart to see the joy in your eyes
While you guzzle down greed's breed seed.

Don’t moan at me with his **** in your ***
I don’t have the heart to see the pain in your eyes
While coal miners ******* into submission.

Don't cry to me when you inevitably ****** him
I don't have the heart to see you regret your life
While you beat, burn, bury, and drown mankind.