Being ME by Warissara

I live in an environment
where I have had to keep up my self awareness everyday and every night
And because of this I have stopped getting drunk
And Because of this I have stopped getting high
Because I know this sounds sad in this day and age
But I always fear for my life

I’ve been called pretty much everything under the sun and moon,
but I’d rather be out there than stay in my room,
because I’m living and following my dreams,
Hoping that peace and love still means what it means,
and for some reason, I still have to keep on fighting
just
To
Be
Me

Mixing ***** and juices,
On Tuesday morning, Monday night,
The parents are asleep.
The stars are so bright.

My body is a temple,
You're **** right.
If it feels good enough,
I'll respect it tonight.

Bandage my chest,
Hurts my ribcage,
I’m a ******* kid,
Shouldn't have to be brave.

You should've been a brother,
Should've got the name right,
Should've been her son,
Instead I'm drinking tonight.

I asked my mother once,
What would you have done if I was born a girl?

She offered a name she considered,
but not the blessing—-
not the consideration that maybe,
just maybe,

I wasn’t supposed to be
quite like this.

the day i was cast out into the world
through *******
they looked between mine
and declared, simply:
“it’s a girl”.

we’re taught to be ashamed
of who we are
that people like me, like us,
are freaks of nature.

told me the body i was given
this body, is sacred.
that i should never tamper with it.
that it’s blasphemous to trespass
on divine territory.

(who knew i could be a trespasser in my own home?)

you point to the sky,
tell me
god doesn’t make mistakes.
turn that finger back on me, on us,
spew ridicule for the ones we’re supposedly making
for merely having the courage to be.

what is it that makes doctors and parents alike
so reluctant to believe that
there are other colors out there
besides pink and blue?

the lines are blurring ––
[**** robin thicke]
this is not a phase.
this choice was not mine to make
(unlike the one you made for me).
don’t tell me who or what i am.

i didn’t climb out of one box
just to be shoved into another.

for all of my life,
i've been told that i would be going to hell,
that i'm destroying god's creation,
that god hates me.

the same god that is supposed to be all-loving.

then you have the audacity to ask,
'why aren't you a christian?'

it's not that i hate religion,
i just can't support one that has dehumanized queer people
for hundreds of years.

Falling asleep

With your
                 Hand
                         In
                             Mine.

I think this might be heaven.

your life is not a stone;
it is clay.
you are a sculptor,
and you won’t be stuck here forever.

i didn’t even think he would try.
i’d spent my whole life idolizing this man,
and the idea that he would ever cause me pain was something that had never crossed my  mind.

until now.
now that i could see the murderous look
in his eyes
and know,
without a single doubt,
that it was meant for me.

he wanted to hurt me
for what i was and who i loved,
that knowledge caused me more agony
than his hands ever could.

without a word
i knew that he was rejecting me.

hating me
for something that i couldn’t change,
something that
i didn’t want to change.