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#genderenvy
that's just the way the body goes i guess wanna mould my hands around his shoulders through t-shirt and pyjama pants wonder what the mirror shows him that perfect mouth is smiling do i wanna be him or ingest him i wish that i could memorise it wanna put my mouth around the reflection kiss him everywhere until he sees red hold his perfect imperfect face and taste myself on his breath take his arms or be held in them i wanna feel and i wanna know i guess that's just the way the body goes
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Sep 19, 2024
Sep 19, 2024 at 3:16 AM UTC
the way the body goes
I've always believed boys were best   I started counting first kisses   collecting them   I’d have enough tickets to buy a brand new stuffed giraffe at the arcade   I curled my face loosely over the toilet bowl   sobs of empathy and hurt attached themselves to scrambled eggs   I find it,,, I find it amusing that body keeps the score   I remember the scent of my brother’s football jersey   how my mother washed it every night   I’m treated like a man   its this mad little crisis   I asked boy to borrow his jeans   he was mortified   why would he ever want to look like me   we never spoke about the jeans again   maybe we would have if I had to tie a little shoelace around the waistband   I don't wish to be held and whispered to   I look inside him   speaking to the butler   I’ve never had that   this thing he spoke about without difficulty   was a matter so unfamiliar   I tumble in dreams trying to succeed in touch   please touch me   touch me,,, if you want …   no one wakes up thinking of me   it may remain that way for a considerable time   I am not looking for a kiss   I’m looking to have what the others have   a hand held on the subway   Could that feel normal to me… ever… ever touch me I’ll cry maybe melt maybe crawl out   that I am no one to someone   I thought I was this special creation   your special creation   is there possible room for my belief   no ones washing my football jersey.
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Sep 5, 2024
Sep 5, 2024 at 2:17 AM UTC
I Believe in Football Players
I've always believed boys were best   I started counting first kisses   collecting them   I’d have enough tickets to buy a brand new stuffed giraffe at the arcade   I curled my face loosely over the toilet bowl   sobs of empathy and hurt attached themselves to scrambled eggs   I find it,,, I find it amusing that body keeps the score   I remember the scent of my brother’s football jersey   how my mother washed it every night   I’m treated like a man   its this mad little crisis   I asked boy to borrow his jeans   he was mortified   why would he ever want to look like me   we never spoke about the jeans again   maybe we would have if I had to tie a little shoelace around the waistband   I don't wish to be held and whispered to   I look inside him   speaking to the butler   I’ve never had that   this thing he spoke about without difficulty   was a matter so unfamiliar   I tumble in dreams trying to succeed in touch   please touch me   touch me,,, if you want …   no one wakes up thinking of me   it may remain that way for a considerable time   I am not looking for a kiss   I’m looking to have what the others have   a hand held on the subway   Could that feel normal to me… ever… ever touch me I’ll cry maybe melt maybe crawl out   that I am no one to someone   I thought I was this special creation   your special creation   is there possible room for my belief   no ones washing my football jersey.
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