He stands at the precipice of their design,
Losing something in the night air.
The edge by which he stands is still and cold.

My ribcage hurts but I don’t want to admit it.
It just feels so nice.
To have a flat chest.
To be a boy.

As I picture myself in the future
Through years of HRT
Small glimmers of excitement
Reflect off the walls of my heart
I rarely feel excitement these days
So this instance is important
I picture ****** hair and muscles
A deepened voice ands flat chest
The physical changes excite me
It's the social ones that scare me
I cannot imagine having male privilege
I cannot imagine not feeling objectified
I cannot imagine being read as a man
I was raised in a position of oppression
I am constantly stared at and made into
Nothing more than the prospect of my genitals
And yet,
One day,
It will no longer be that way
I'll just look like a basic white boy
And they'll have no idea
Except that I will not stay silent
I will not hide in the shadows
I am transmasculine and nonbinary
And I refuse to remain invisible

Recently
The person I am now dating
Has come to terms with
His own trans identity
When we met he looked like a girl
But I could sense something within him
Something that resonated with
My own confusing feelings of gender
I asked him if he was trans
And at that point
He used the term nonbinary
I felt really excited about this
Finally there was someone like me
Who definitely was not a woman
But never felt like a man either
It was actually just a space in his journey
And he eventually came out to me again
It's my first time having a boyfriend
Since coming to terms with my queerness
And I love him deeply
But it has not been easy
Mostly because of the fact that
His transition has led me
To come face-to-face with
My own repressed identity
I have to address and recognize
All of my internalized transphobia
Most of which is aimed at the mirror
Fueled by years of denying myself
While I am definitely not a woman
And have never felt like a man
A lot of the time I feel like a boy
And hope that I will pass as such
I am finally ready to really listen to me
And the needs of my identity
To resume my rightful path
On the road to being myself again

At some point in college
I was dating my first long-term girlfriend
She knew about my being trans
But we didn't talk about it too much
Sometime during that period
She told me that
She didn't think that she could
Stay with me if I made the choice
To take hormones
Or to get bottom surgery
At that point in my life
I didn't want to lose her or that love
So I decided that I didn't want those things anymore
That I felt good enough without them
Now that it's been a few years
I'm just realizing that I lied to myself
I chose to repress those desires
In order to preserve my relationship
And it took three years after that
To even realize what I'd done to myself

My second year in college
I was enrolled in LGBT psychology
I had just contacted my insurance
Regarding the possibility of top surgery
Although the website included it
They told me they wouldn't cover it
My heart caved in on itself
And I knew it wasn't going to happen
Then one day during class
We had guest speakers there
One of them was a trans woman
Who had transitioned successfully
I was wholly inspired again and
When I asked her some questions
I began crying uncontrollably
I was surprised and embarrassed
In a way I knew she understood
And then I repressed that pain
I knew I'd have to wait for it and
I didn't want to hurt that much along the way

Laying alone in my bed
******* in the dark
******* sending scathing ripples
Across my covered female anatomy
And yet in my mind I didn't see that
I pictured myself with women
Which I always attributed to
My hella queer identity
Except I was never myself in the fantasies
My friend told me that's why I couldn't ******
Because I needed to make the thoughts
Much more personal than that
Yet it didn't feel the same
As watching the strangers in ****
In my fantasies, I wasn't me
But I also was
I felt synonymous with the person I saw
I imagined feeling what they felt
But they had a *****
I did not
I thought it was just a kink
I don't think that anymore

Just before college
I started dressing more masculine
Prior to that I struggled hard
With my attempts at femininity
It never felt right
I was never comfortable
And this one time
My mom walked into my room
Just as I broke down crying
Because someone thought I was hot
In a pink outfit with makeup on
They said I should wear that more often
My mom asked why I was so upset
And I couldn't explain it to her
I really didn't know
I just knew that that "compliment"
Burned into a deep portion of my soul
It hurt me so intensely
Because some part of me knew
That the person in that photo
Was not me

When I was small
I hoped to be just like my brothers
I didn't see gender differences then
I wanted to play the same sports
To join in on family football games
I wanted to be one of the boys too
Take my shirt off
Run the ball down the road
Play in the mud
Maybe I just wanted to be included
And maybe I saw them as the cool kids
Looking back now
It seems much more telling

When I was a kid
I used to lip-sync in the mirror
Dancing around and
Breathing in the words
Even back then
Nothing inspired me more than music
Interestingly though
It could only be songs by men
I could still jam to women's songs
But I couldn't watch myself do it
It gave me a lot of anxiety to see
Those beautiful feminine voices
Matched to the way my mouth moved
I didn't understand it back then

This is a suicide note
From the person you thought I was.
From the girl, from the woman, and
From the person who used bathrooms without a ******.

“If you are reading this
Then I am dead.
It was inevitable.

I would have died either way.
The only variable was
Whether or not
He died too.”