I just realized: I am in mourning. I am mourning the loss of my life right now.
A trans man posted that he was mourning the loss of the boyhood that he never had.
I am mourning the loss of a gender-free childhood I never had. I am mourning that I have to cover who I am. I mourn what I could have but don’t. I mourn.
I have lost so much time. For almost a year I have known I am genderqueer, but have kept silent at home. I am mourning what I could have had if the world had been easier; if the world had been kinder, gentler to me. If only the world could show love.
I feel my identity is unloved in my home. I feel it is highly politicized, dehumanized, unreal, not palpable in the air which we all breathe at the dinner table together.
I AM REAL I shout! See me for I am so real. Hear and feel me for my skin is true, my mind is true; I am real and I sit here with you.
I am mourning the loss of a childhood I never had. I mourn the loss of kindness I never had.
Please be kind. I promise I will always be kind.

In my arms, my dear child, you are not a political piece, you are not a distant figure - distant yet still held so closely in my arms and cradled like a child. There will be none of that. You are simply one whom I love, and I am yours in return.
Please love me for who I am. I am only human, I can only take so much.
I don't want to be your figure, I want to be your child. There is such a big difference.

These words I write are the tomb for the name I was once called
These words I write are the grave in which I bury her
These words I write are where ma'am, and her will lay to rest
These words I write are where I **** her once and for all
THIS IS WHERE MAGGIE LAYS TO NEVER BE WOKEN

Long hair
Long brown hair
Long soft brow hair

Blue eyes
Blue soft eyes
Blue sad eyes

Pretty dress
Pink pretty dress
Flowery pink pretty dress

A chest
A chest so full
A chest so beautifl

Scissors
Scissors on pretty long har
chop, Chop, CHOP

Blue eyes
Teary blue eyes
Relived blue eyes

A hoodie
A hoodie and black jeans
Black ripped jeans and a band T

A chest
A chest in pain
Chest wrapped flat to body

she, She, SHE
Thats what they see
They will never see their son

Every ma'am
Is the tightening of a noose
Is the sharpening of a blade

Every shower
Is the collection of pills growing
Is the note being revised

Every she
is a punch in the throat
Is one step closer

One step closer to the end
Because I cant wait to not feel this



But then I get called sir
I get called them
I get called him
And it's one step back from the rope
One pill flushed
One note ripped up
One more day I will stay alive
Because I love that feeling

you told everyone you had a girl
tried to control every aspect of her world
but what if she didn't feel the same
what if she was they or he some days

somedays, she wants you to tell her she's pretty
even if you hate the way she looks
and somedays, he just wants to laugh with his mama
even if he hates the way he looks
somedays, they need to hear you say you love them
because they don't feel like you do
somedays you don't have a daughter
is that okay with you

you warned her of how boys were stupid
but told her she'd marry one someday
so what if she decided not to
what if she didn't feel the same

somedays, they dream of boys who'll kiss them
even though they hate themselves
and somedays, they dream of girls who'll hold them and want to be held
even though they're a little chubby
somedays, they want to have a partner regardless of what that partner wants to be called
somedays your child doesn't want anyone at all

is that okay with you
does it make you mad
if i weren't normal
would you understand
because this song is about me
it's about how i feel
it's about what i am
fluidity is real

somedays

I applied under my legal name.
No way around it really, so I'll have to tell the truth later.
Policy, taxes, W-2's blah,
all I know is that neither the government
or the corporation cares that I stopped being a girl at least 5 years ago (even though the pride merch is filling the front).

It's for the more presentable queers.
Those white, married gays and lesbians moving into the suburbs with their kids and white picket fences and their acceptable bodies.
No trans flag in sight, just gaudy rainbow after gaudy "love wins".
Where's my prize?
Same-*** marriage doesn't help when I decide whether to *** like a man or a woman.

my body is simply not conventional
to the clothes I wear
there are dips and hills plastered on my figure
hanes doesn't take into account
my weight or my height
so pulling up the waistband
drills the cotton into my skin
with no room to breathe
but I've gotten comfortable

my body is not conventional
to the clothes I wear
the hunch back of Notre Dame meets
a protruding belly that widens my waist
when I wear shirts
fabric strangles my hips
displaying my grotesque body
but I've gotten comfortable

my body is not conventional
to the clothes I wear
aged binders do their best
pools of skin are dipping out the sides
my ribs ache and it's hard to ignore
when my body wails a cracking chaos
pain and overstimulation have crept into dreams
but I've gotten comfortable

my body is not conventional
to the clothes I wear
my body is not conventional
but it doesn't bring despair
my body is not conventional
and you can't begin to understand it
because it's too crippling to bear
it's staggering to peep into a mirror
seeing my being labeled unpleasant
with the unnerving urge to rip my eyes out
and splatter my blood on the glass
why don't I just break down and sit there
it's heavy to carry my weight and be hyperaware
it's easy to not care and maybe I'd take that route
but I'm not conventional
so I'm taking another way downstairs

I am falling
Perpetual spirals into the dark
I feel my hands grasping
As air passes through my fingers
Something feels off and
I really can't tell
If the caution is real
Or a phantom of my fear
I'm in the land of ghosts and demons
Haunted by these oppressive memories
It's hard to know what's worse
The monsters or the claustrophobia
Flowers can't bloom in the darkness and
Humans cannot thrive in isolation
This place is lifeless, suffocating
Only tolerable through inebriation
Kindess is but a mask here
Trusting no one a necessity
Half these people want me dead
And a quarter could care less
Don't tell me I'm overreacting
When even family aim their guns
I've made my escape and now
I know what growth feels like
I've tasted the freshness of freedom
Witnessed the miracle of peace
It is not like this everywhere
So don't try to normalize this hate
I found celebration beyond tolerance
And I've built my home there
This place is a noxious poison and
I'm done trying to survive it