I'm lesbian so what
I'm gay so what
I'm bisexual so what
I'm ******* transgender so what
At least i know who the **** I am
I'm pansexual so what
I'm ******* me
I'm myself
If you don't like it
I love it
If you don't care
I cherish it forever
If you hate me
I love you
I'm LGBT
Who the **** are you
Hahaha

once telling someone me,
who i am,
it's always "how did you know?".
i didn't.
i knew who i was like you knew that pants where worn on legs or that love is both amazing yet disastrous,
i just knew who i was.

Baby girl,

The first time I feel your tiny body in my hand, I realize my heart has been torn out of my chest. It’s been given arms and legs and a small, beautiful face, and now I have to watch it run around outside of me and guide it so I don’t lose it.

I know I will protect you because you are the Holy Grail men spend their entire lives searching for.

You are everything. No one will love you more than I do. Nothing will come between us.

You will grow up in an unkind world, a world that shouts and spews oceans of hatred. They will tell you that you’re worth less than the boys you’ll want to date.

But you will grow strong and proud, fearless of those oppressive ideals because you know better.

And when you come to me and tell me you love girls, too, with the burning passion of a million fire ants, I won’t let you see how much this worries me.

Because as hard as life was for you as a girl, my baby, it will be even more difficult when people spill oil and acid into the bay where you grew up. And all of the positivity you learned will sink under their screams of “****” and “******” and “*****”.

I will be here, though, to love you and show you that kindness is the sword in the stone that you need to rule your kingdom. You will be the mightiest queen we’ve ever seen because you know how hard life is, and you’ll teach your children and their children the respect and passion they need to make this stagnant bog flow.

But

But when you tell me that you are not my daughter at all,
that you’ll never be my baby girl,
because I taught you to find Excalibur,
and you realized you were King Arthur,
what am I supposed to do?
Am I supposed to love and support you unconditionally because you are still my child?
Everything I know says that this is wrong, every cell in my body says you are my daughter and changing your life like this is wrong and it will be so hard for you to be this boy you want to become.

How can I let you blossom into your own person when you’re not safe stepping beyond the persona I made for you?

What are you looking at young child?
The two boys kissing over there?
It's fine. I promise. Love is love!
And the two girls holding hands?
That's ok too. Love is love after all.
No need to argue.
What are you looking at, kid?
The single dad with children of his own?
Smiling at their father as does other children?
He does his best, he works hard and never wants to let them down
He's a good dad in my opinion.
Yes, a very handsome one too.
What are you looking at?
The mother who tries to make her child smile?
Oh the child! I see he's wearing pink.
And is that eye shadow? Oh she did it well, his mum did.
Oh and her daughter! Oh she looks cute in blue jeans.
And I love that blue shirt on her.
Oh those two! The ones who like rock music
Wear leather jackets, spikes, tattoos, piercings and black
Yet they're the kindest couple on earth.
Is all this bothering you child?
You shouldn't need to worry. They're all good people, all very nice.
They're all human inside.
Give them a smile dear!
That's it.

Don’t worry if it is the end.
Even if it is the last time we
ever see each other.
I promise I’ll meet you
at the gates when you get
dropped off.
I’ll pick you up.
Spin you around.
Kiss you until my lips
ache.
My love,
my life is ending,
but I promise that
in the end
Your smile
Is all I need.

Congratulations! It’s a girl.
The third girl of three,
To be baptized, to sit at pew surrounded by the congregation,
Who would deem my existence as unworthy.
My entire life a sin, even though my first prayer was to rid this sin of me.
But God did not answer me.
Or I was just too foolish to not listen to him.
My mother promised me something,
When I grow up I can be anything I want.
I decided to be a boy.
Naturally I did not come out of the closet,
The kids in school pulled me out.
Calling by words I did not recognize, “****, ******, Lesbian”
But I was more boy than girl, more Men’s Magazine than Maybelline.
I forcefully swallowed the phrases along with the slurs.
Uncles at reunions eyeing my scraped up knees,
Supposed to be covered by a flowery dress.
A short ponytail in the place of golden locks.
“I didn’t know I had a nephew.”
Aunts picking a my blushing cheeks,
And my female cousins begging to paint my face.
But my whole body’s already painted on.
My genetic makeup contributing the question of my anatomy.
My mother feared for my safety,
Afraid my name would become another hashtag within a second.
Another name whispered in hushed conversations.
Another ******* name of transgender homicide.
I am walking grave with a name painted on to which I do not recognize.
My life dependent on the mercy of hateful strangers,
The minute I walk out the door,
I become a feast for the eyes of strangers.
Confused at my gender expression,
They feast on my queer with hateful slurs.
Maybe someday God will answer my prayers.

I'm sorry you never got to be a mother,
kids running around you being a bother.
I’m sorry you never got to grow up and get married,
to a man who would cherish you till you were buried.
I’m sorry you lost all your friends,
Maybe someday they will make amends.
I’m sorry you lived hating your body,
mind going crazy, and eyes red and ******.
I’m sorry for all the things you could have been,
cut short by me at just thirteen.

But I’m not sorry for living,
I had to get free screaming and kicking.
I’m not sorry for letting your soul go,
like a little kid with his dead goldfish in the toilet flow.
I’m not sorry for ripping the facade of you off,
I’m glad our personalities aren’t too far-off.
I’m not sorry for being true to myself,
to that miserable girl, a sweet farewell.
Though no one knows you truly died,
the grief of you lies within me classified.