To begin with,
We have YOU,
And we have Me.
And we also have THEM, THEY, THEIRS THOSE, WE AND US.
As well, we have:
SOGIES
Asexuals
Allies
Intersexes
Bisexuals
Lesbians
Gays
H­omosexuals
Pansexuals
Queers
Straights
Heterosexuals
Gender Binaries
Afabs
Amabs
Agenders
Androgynes
Gender Blenders
Bigenders
Cisgenders
Cross-dressers
Drag Queens
Drag Kings
Enbies
Gender Dysphoria
Gender fluids
Gender Non-conformists
Gender Queers
Gender Variants
Non-Binaries
Questioners
Transgenders
Transitions
Transs­exuals
Two-Sprits... and
LGBTQIA+
(Flora and Fauna?)

Does Genesis have anything right?

despite popular belief
your hands do not bend the light of the sun
your lips do not pour truth and sugar
and there are scissors in your gaze

sitting next to your decisions
i let them hold my hands
and hold my mouth on your command
six pounds of fine print
six pounds of guile
you only love me when im silent

i am not stupid
i am not a fire prince
nor will i live to earn something that you refuse to give
however there are other factors, always,
like survival

kaleidoscope collage
your cuts are carefully connected
fingers of precision and denial
this was your causing and creation
and yet your language is laced with words as if you would be hurt by my exile

perhaps it will come that you understand love
but as it stands you believe it is hunger
to love is to know to demand and control
i pity your vision of family

a sliding scale of humanity
what gives you the idea it is a choice
what makes you think there is a weight difference in voice
like you have the right to someones needs
and reserving them for trials
performance should not be required
for simple decency

and yet here we stand
in front of the pyramids
like women perhaps
but no human for miles and miles

debatable humanity
does he deserve to be known
should he be granted sunlight
and is existence your choice
or is it just because you decided

he should have to grovel for a crumb
have him on his knees
but hes not allowed to ask nor to speak
he must not make his breathing heard
but out of earshot out of thoughts
unburdened fingers in your pockets

which is worse

isnt that convenient

ive heard you turn and your lips say you love him
but hands murmur other words
or is it more a scream
from the lungs he has known
words mean nothing
(tell that to the ropes at his wrists)
but if you are not aware
that there is more to this
he will remain yet hopeless

"He's young now." I look into the mirror. "He'll grow on you."

"He's learning. Unwise in his few years, low in confidence."

I ponder..." Will he always be so...scrappy?"

Here stands a young man, looking in the mirror. Still baffled at the reflection he sees.

There goes a woman, his mother, still determined to have a youngest daughter.

People say "He's changing, look in the mirror...see for yourself."

What I see is a scared young man....

scared to live, scared to take up space, scared to make a sound in the noise of society's never ending chaos.

She's trying...she says. To understand. To support. To move on. She knows not her faults nor the effect her words have on you...she only knows that one day her daughter stopped wearing dresses, cut her hair, and left a life of pink and pageantry behind.

No, she doesn't know what she does, but she can see the light in your eyes began to dim when she calls you her little girl.

His father....slowly decaying, pushes the ideas of a son out of his mind. Refuses to see the beard and changing physique in front of him, clings desperately like a moth to a flame to his little girl who he swears never grew a day past the age of five.

Back when things were simple. Back when there wasn't so much **** change. Back when things mattered less about pronouns and more about peace of mind and reputation.

When I grow up, I want to be the change that I wish I saw in all of you. I want to embrace who I love with open arms, decide that I'd **** for the man I see in the mirror. Let all those who disapprove be ******.

Because if I couldn't protect the light in that little girls eyes so many years ago, I'll be **** sure that the man I become is one who will protect mine.

"A man so flat and boobless you could skip him across a lake like a prized stone"

I showed my surgeon the text post, and she said
"We'll get you there!"

**** right, she did.
Staring into the mirror, I see all of me.

Mortal boundaries declaring who I've always known myself to be

Thank you for all of your support throughout the years, dear readers <3

Finally, finally, finally
I am free

Peter once asked: which things make you feel something?

And the truth is I’ve been play pretending since quarentine
When I started to believe in a glamourous life

Lillies of the valley, meditation
Behind sunrise filters there’s someone unhappy, black and white
With a dull and wrinkled skin, she hates the sun
She always thought about her vocations
House decorator but she never could do it right
Just like singing, or dancing or even flerting but not like holding a gun

She lives in a small and warm house
Which she always wished the old roof to cave in
No garden, no breath, but death
Never met the green but fell in love with violence
And by that I mean - her mother talks about the path

God, unfriend of mine
Please, let me d-die

I’ve been play pretending since quarentine
When I started to believe in a fitness life

*** with cellulite but not like Jupiter
Curves all over the body but not like the ones on the road
There is hair, but not long enough and strong enough like Rapunzel's - for her men to entrust her with the climb
There are big arms, but not like Anette's because no one would stay in it for that long
There’s no art on her

November 1st 2021, she noticed that she was thinner but she couldn't wear her high waisted pants like she always wanted
Her mother would **** her if she did
So she prayed one more time

God, unfriend of mine
Please, let me d-die

I’ve been play pretending since quarentine
When I started to hide in the night life

‘Don’t trust the moon, she’s always changing’

Peter once asked: which things make you feel something?

So she prayed one more time

God, unfriend of mine
Please, let me d-die

i cut and i cut and i cut and i cut and yet
Still, it is there. One
post-it-note in permanent marker,
a diary entry written in pen.
Woman, it says.
Woman.

Real Not Fiction
A hole is a hole said the Mule
As he stuck his stump up a slapper
This saying was mirrored by another
Who told a story of his friends

And what recently happened
One long term friend has a gal
They’d been together 7 years
And planned to get married
Spending a lifetime together
Already lovers and more

You know how it goes
So to be happy in bliss
But a big problem arose
Another old school pal

Caused a fuss with the gal
Who was a guy before!
So now you’re a gal not a guy
How did that come about?
A trip to Thailand and cash
Lots of cash from her rich family

The school pal seeing the gal
Wasn’t aware of any of this
Just that he was in love
Happy and going to be married

To a gal who was once a guy
He was oblivious to this
Unlike the other ex-pupil
They gave the gal guy it
A week to tell her fiancé
All of the truth of they’d do it

I told the pal who knew them all
Make sure the guy who
Knew them all
Never killed the gal

Who was once a guy
Like the American one
What will happen
Within this week
Happiness or war?
A hole is a hole

Even if no kids
Reality not fiction
The Mule was right

The world is hollow
And I am just a guy
I find it hard to swallow,
But logic must apply

Without it, I am lost
There's no alternative
I wish I knew the cost
To live how I want to live