I’m noones best friend.

I know so many people that I dearly love and consider my friends,

but there’s too many of the ones I don’t want to loose yet don’t want to bother.

They all know me,but don’t know ME.



I feel like I’m trying to keep so many doors open that I can’t enter a single one.

Even if I do,will it be the right choice?

Is there a right choice?



This is all my fault,I lost the close ones myself.

I pushed them away or let them go.



And when I fall,I'll hit the ground

they’re too far away to catch me now

In the morning, I keep scrolling.

I check for notifications from everything, from everywhere.

Youtube
Tumblr
Twitter
Facebook
Pinterest

Like I said, everywhere.

I scroll until I find something.

Something that seems pretty.

Something that seems important.

I of course share the one I find pretty.

I don’t want to make anyone angry at me.

Do you know what that other one was?

It was about something that is part of me.

It was about a transgender person that had been killed.

Bullied into suicide.

My heart drops as I read further and further into the post.

Her name was Victoria.

They called her [REDACTED].

I could only imagine what she felt in that moment.

Hands shaking, palms sweating, nails digging into her arms…

Then I snap back to reality.

I realize that...that’s me.

My name is Jeremy.

They called me [REDACTED].

You could only imagine what I felt like in that moment.

Hands shaking, palms sweating, nails digging into my arms.

This is my reality.

And I ******* hate it.

It dwells in alleyways of silhouettes
In clicking sounds in cars
In storms where the wind seems to
Take away your breath

It lives within a stranger’s smile
In a tight grip on the shoulder
In footsteps following you and
Speeding up when your heart
Begins to race.

It is beautiful. It is sudden. It lingers.

It is the spinning, twirling confusion
That leaves you stuck within a
Bubble of white-cold, unsure
Of which direction to go.

All is silent and the

Eerie stillness one feels
With their toes peeking over the edge
Falling, the air whipping about them.
Down
Down
Down

Into the icy depths of liquid

Limbs are heavy, body and mind exhausted
Lungs restricting, pleading for a bite of air
But all you taste is

Fluid

Dripping from your wounds
As you push open your crumpled
Car door, shaking and crying, still
Clutching the phone in your

Hands

Clutching yours, murmured whispers
Of cryptic regret, of cherished moments.
You aged body sinks into the bed
Your grip loosens on theirs
And despite this peaceful end
Your brain screams

Survive! Survive! Survive!
Live! Live! Live!

As you sink into
Six-foot deep holes and
Into dark alleyways
Of silhouettes.

I am a guy.
Just a guy.
Not an "ummm...technically."
or "biologically female."
Not: "used to be a girl",
"Thinks she's a guy",
"Doesn't dress like a boy",
"What she got between her legs?",
"Wears makeup",
"Doesn't pass"-

Gender norms literally **** people.

Every "I'm sorry" is just a peeling paint job
over an intercity wall,
no one really wants to look at,
or fix,
or admit to.

This is not a problem I brought on myself.
My gender is not a problem,
You are the problem.

I'm not running from what's inside me anymore,
I know what's inside me,
I've made peace with what's inside me
It's the same old, same old,
with a new set of words
you ******* can't wrap your tongues around.

I don't care if you slipped up,
Fix it.
I don't care if you didn't know I was a boy,
Fix it.
I don't care about your cis guilt, cis excuses, or cis ignorance
Fix it.

Because you don't know the age limit
not to be Emily anymore.
The hundreds of dollars it costs.
Every: "Hello Ladies",
every "Sorry Miss",
every "What can I do for you Ma'm",
every "You'll always be my niece-"
"My daughter",
"My girlfriend".

The cis questions,
cis answers,
cis stares,
cis disinterest in my ******* feelings.

I am not going to hold your hand
and politely explain to you that
I
AM
NOT
MY
GENITALS.
That's your job cis people.
Fix it.

Every misgendering is peeking through the veil
of how people really perceive you.
It's all just a game they play along
with in your presence.
Going along with a trance they think
you've put yourself in.

They don't really see you,
When all it takes is
changing a single word
in one ******* sentence.
That would be no inconvenience to them,
But makes or breaks the world to you.
Covering it up with a strained smile,
Lying that it's fine.

Is it even a question that over 70%
of trans people **** themselves,
as opposed to 1% of the general population.
It makes so much ******* sense to me.

Because trans means knowing
I will never be properly gendered by a stranger,
Unless I get a **** I don't ******* want.
Being trans is waking up everyday
with the guarantee you can not
use the bathrooms in public.

Can't be called a guy
Hearing: "Emmett? That's a weird girl's name."
Having people ignore you
When you're on the verge of tears
begging them not to see
your soft curves and small chest and skirt
as one big sign that says 'SHE'.

Then being told:
"It's not their fault,
people just don't know."
"You have to be more understanding,
more patient -
be nicer about it."

How 'bout applying that to yourself?
Don't tell me I have to be kinder
about being denied my identity everyday.
Don't tell me to shut up about a system
so ingrained in my brain
I still misgender myself.

It's gaslighting,
A society denying reality
And telling us we are the confused ones.
The crazy ones.
For veering outside these neat little boxes
ahem, cages
of made up rules
they've tried to lock us into.

The consequences are absolutely deadly.
Is it any question
That people bleed themselves dry
Get drunk, get high
just to escape it all?

Then get thrown into a 'health care system'
for attempted suicide,
get misgendered by the nurses and doctors
who ignore why they're there in the first place.
Then denied hormones for their
'mental instability'.

We are thrown into a world of glass ceilings
and imaginary borders
with all too real consequences.

Make no mistake,
We are not dangers to ourselves.
You absolutely put us here.

Blame it on whatever generation or
individual you want,
but we are all participating in cisnormativity
if you are not constantly unlearning.

If you equate genitals with gender,
Ask what the baby's going to be -
As if it ******* matters -
Don't think to ask pronouns and get it wrong,
See every character, every face on TV
that doesn't look like ours,
have everything catered
to the way you turned out to be,

That's privilege is our danger.
The gaps in judgement
and consideration for our situations
is where we live
and our destined to fall.

Because when someone hits you with a car
It doesn't matter of they didn't see  you,
didn't mean to,
have never done it before,
are the nicest person in the world -
They ****** up.
And it still hurts.

Sure, if they meant to
it would be worse,
But I'm through with this rhetoric
about intent.

Don't think this is too drastic a comparison,
Gender norms literally kills people.
Every mark of 'self-harm' on our arms
Is a scar society put there.
Every trans suicide is a ******.

The question isn't why
we are killing ourselves.
It's how the ****
are we still alive.

When I walk I feel the earth quake & tremble beneath me.
Or I feel the vibrations caused by all living matter, & I'm scared knowing a single raindrop could drown me.
Or I'm so happy that I feel the rhythm of every individual molecule that makes up all that I am.

So please help me steady my heart, because I need a way out of this ride.
And I'll get it one way or another.