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

You've tried everything in the book,
but nothing ever seems to work
you just can't achieve that long-desired look.
Let it all flow out in artwork,
if no one else will look at you like that.

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.”

Vibrant colors flood through the engravings in my skeleton,
the bright lights shining through my skin,
along every nerve as they illuminate themselves to make known their pain.
What a useless light show,
that nobody asked for,
telling everybody in vain
that it wants to be released.

Maybe brief, perhaps longer
but in this moment I am She.
It’s fluid, isn’t it? To decide
upon being Her, rather than
the prolonged Masculine----
that’s not to say I won’t be Him again.

This is liquid consideration,
rolling down my neck, my
collarbone, breast, navel----
It was so obvious when I felt it
like a switch-flip, dynamite ignite----
Boom. He is She. I am She.

Now name me, for I am born
unto this magnificence---- A body,
a mind---- Mine. His. Ours.
Stronger than any,
mightier than all.

Breathe me life for I am valid----
in this moment, we are goddess.
I am Now.

I'm sweating like hell
even though it's cold as hail
then she says, "hey, David"
and I can't even tell
how I got this happy.