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Orion Rosemary May 2021
I'm just trying to live my life
Like any other human being
I get on the bus, sit on the guys side
I go through my day-to-day

I get called down to the office
I'm told I have to sit on the girls side because I'm in the system as a girl
I tell him I'm not a girl and the heteronormative system is ridiculous
I didn't do anything wrong and sit by myself anyways

He says he will see what he can do
In the hallway not long after, after school ends, going down stairs
I group of kids scream near my ears
I mumble to myself and they touch my head

I said stop
They didn't stop
I turned around
And for the first time in my life I lower myself to violence
And punch one in the leg

I break down
I'm lucky to work with such wonderful people in theatre
I just want to live my life
I just want to be left and not harassed

Im told I can sit on the boys side
I have to sit alone
I can only sit in the front or back
I have to tell the stranger next to me he can't sit there

I want to tell him why
I don't want to out myself
I have to give up the ounce of validation of being treated like a normal guy on the bus by the other guys, who are unafraid to get in trouble for sitting with me cause they don't know what I am or care

I wish...
I wish I was born right just like he and every other guy on the bus

But if I was I would not be me.

I could not understand my own struggles
Or sympathize so much with others

I could not learn and adapt the way I do now
Could not have taught myself to be brave in the same way I am

I could not have the experience of having kids with my spouse the way I want to

I would not have needed to stand up for my rights or that of others

I would not have addresssed my lack of understanding and my internalized transphobia

I am stronger for who and what I am.
My gestalt.
For learning to come to terms with the harsh truths of what I am to the world.

If that wish came true, I would not be me. I would not be
Orion.
An improv prompt from my theatre teacher/director. My group decided to do a funny skit but I wanted to answer it in a heartfelt way on my own separately.
birdy May 2021
You cannot frame the oceans waves.
Forever changing,
vibrant blue -- ever-changing into deeper shades of understanding.
A never changing struggle between the sand and the water.
I am the ocean -- blue.
Jaicob May 2021
No matter how many times I'm called beautiful
or pretty, of gorgeous, or any other comment,
I will always cry when I hear the name
You try to call me adoringly...

It is dead.
I bury it here
In the words.
I write its tombstone.
Jaicob May 2021
Oh, {deadname},

You're my beautiful daughter.
I know you're only lying.
You'll never, ever be a boy
No matter how long you keep trying.

Give up on transitioning.
Your mind has been poisoned.
The media has consumed you-
All the lies eating their way in.

Finally, you are my precious baby girl.
You're very smart, and you know that.
Don't think you're a boy- you're not.
You should put on your smiling mask

Until you're not sick anymore,

-Your loving mother
I want to leave this house... It hurts to look at myself.
birdy Apr 2021
Mirrors like to lie.
Reflecting a 'girl'.
An image of an old self,
a mannequin.
Jaicob Apr 2021
Pain wracks my fragile bones.
Everything hurts me,
So please, please don't
Come close or touch me.

I can't look at my body
Because it isn't what I want.
I know it's selfish, you see,
But it's a paper without a font.

My skin is a tapestry of
Beauty and pretty and all
In the perfect girl you'd love,
But guys: absolutely appalled.

Nothing matched on me-
I'm the missing left sock,
My bones' rattle is all I'll be
Until I take the final walk.
Just another day of being awake at 0300 and being unable to go back to sleep... Dysphoria knocks to the ground my mortal frame, shaking and quaking with power (or lack thereof).
Rhys Apr 2021
Despite the number of YouTube videos in the world,
there are none titled, "If I had been a boy we would have dated,
but now I've transitioned sooooo???"
and it gives me anxiety.
Quill Apr 2021
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.
yann Mar 2021
the words come easy
when they are about love
they float around me,
and my mouth speaks
before i can regret letting out
all that i hold inside of me
the light and the beauty
spilling out
im shy.

we lay down in your bed,
but this time
my teeth pull the words back
my throat is on fire
so much of it
burning
why aren't they floating
i want to
tell you
show you
the love choking me up
im scared.

until my lips
stop trembling
until my hands
are brave enough to
hold us in their warmth
will you wait for me
I'll come back
with every
word and every
phrase
and every
tiny bit of longing
i swallowed back
for us,
i won't let all of it
disappear inside me,
not this time,
i love you.
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