#transman
When you're born, they'll say you're a girl.
When you're one, they'll dress you in pink.
When you're two, your hair will be put up in bows.
When you're three, you'll wonder why you aren't in blue.
When you're four, you'll try and cut your hair.
When you're five, you'll copy the other boys.
When you're six, you'll ask why you can't wear swim trunks.
When you're seven, you'll steal your brother's clothes.
When you're eight, you'll be bullied for being a tomboy.
When you're nine, you'll try to wear dresses to fit in.
When you're ten, you'll ask to cut your hair bi-monthly.
When you're eleven, you have a crush on a girl.
When you're twelve, you wear baggy clothes.
When you're thirteen, you change your name.
When you're fourteen, you wear swim trunks a rashgaurd.
When you're fifteen, you deepen your voice in public.
When you turn sixteen, you'll use the mens bathroom.
When you turn seventeen, you'll start to save up.
When you turn eighteen, you'll move out.
When you turn nineteen, you'll start testosterone.
When you turn twenty, you'll transition.
When you turn twenty-one, you'll be shirtless in swim trunks.
Feb 19
Feb 19, 2026 at 8:57 PM UTC
I mourn the self that was taken from me.
A beautiful woman that I’ll never be.
A stunning reflection that I’ll never see.
Instead, a short man, barely any stubble.
Will be made, created, formed out of her rubble.
In a sense, I’m two people, metaphorically double.
I’m the man that I am, but also her too.
She lies in the organs and ******* that I grew.
She never would have existed if earlier I knew.
She is my body, and he is my mind.
Though sometimes I want to, I can’t leave either behind.
I hope if they were to meet me, they’d say I am kind.
Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 9:14 PM UTC
The flash reveals a ghost.
She stands in the present,
a figure from the past.
You can feel the future inside of her
yearning to be the now.
But it is not his time just yet.
Sep 2, 2024
Sep 2, 2024 at 8:03 PM UTC
Hand in hand,
tears from two form a river
The world stills in mourning as the little girl dies.
He tries to loosen his grip,
but her hold remains.
The boy can only watch as she starts to fall
Her body descending in the waves.
Finally as she lets go,
he tightens his hold
and struggles to keep her afloat.
Sinking under,
she gently whispers
“They mourn for you
And the youth I stole.”
Aug 31, 2024
Aug 31, 2024 at 5:19 AM UTC
"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
Jun 15, 2023
Jun 15, 2023 at 9:03 PM UTC
the daughter of my mother
sleeps inside my chest.
murmurs in her sleep
"i could do it better, i could be loved for it"
my mother loves her daughter.
it's hard, letting her go
my home of many years
no matter how uncomfortable the bed was
how cold the rooms
i lived in her
was loved in her
sometimes i take her out
drag her out of my soul like old laundry
like nostalgia, like a party dress
i slip, quietly, into her skin
wear her face, her family.
she doesn't fit right.
the daughter of my mother
is coated in broken glass on the inside
but as her
i can do it better, i can be loved for it
my mother loves her daughter.
.
Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 2:23 AM UTC
when i look at you
it fills the despondent void
of what i didn't have
when i look at you
it fills space to love harder
needed from the past
when i look at you
i am full of happiness
no longer helpless
when i look at you
there's a kid celebrating
those victories fought
he is a spirit
who goes to rest knowingly
that you avenged him
Jul 23, 2020
Jul 23, 2020 at 11:37 PM UTC
never thought you'd be mine
here i am pulling on your strings
playing your melodies
while the texture plays me a memory
a lost boy running for his life
in the forest overrun
clones of himself can't escape
for he is his own greatest enemy
a boy with no features
no features of a boy
or what society deems
a boy with hairless skin
and effeminate lips
a boy with no regard to how high
the decibels of his voice was
a boy who ran on his feet while withering his chest
a boy who couldn't always take in deep breaths
a boy who chose how big or how small he wanted to show the world his ***** was
a boy who didn't exactly fit the narrative
a boy nonetheless
but is it now that i am a man?
is it now that when i touch the hair on my face, it makes me he?
is it the voice i desperately tried to craft? or is it my piece of clothing that binds the skin, and bone of my body?
is it my shoes and how they're bigger and longer? maybe it's my laugh and smile that gives it away.
maybe it's nothing at all.
and i'm deemed a man for a selfish binary who doesn't care about my traumatic experiences being hunted by my own mind.
she is blind to her crashing disaster.
she'll grant me with an immunity called privilege.
immunity from being recognized as a woman, and being treated as such by code.
but at least my ****** hair is tangible.
Jul 13, 2020
Jul 13, 2020 at 2:30 AM UTC
The heat is becoming unbearable.
[average repair cost $488]
I'm manually cranking the window
[1998 Chevy S-10]
While Dad drives me to the store.
I'm craving Nutella
[Great Value Hazelnut Spread]
And pomegranates seeds.
[only one container without mold]
I hope Mom doesn't mind the price.
Turning 22 this year;
[also a model from 1998]
I hope to start on Testosterone
[again]
And maybe learn to drive
Apr 17, 2020
Apr 17, 2020 at 11:40 AM UTC
Her hair waved
With passionate oversight
She dawned
Every time she whipped it and
It grew light
She was a princess
But then
She cut it.
And found those
Words were
People's idea of what
She thought she was
Then when she was ready
She cut it again and said
I am a transman
And the weight got lifted
His aura changed.
People got scared
But guess what
His smile got bigger
Cuz he didn't care.
And his body felt
Light and tingly
Every time he thought
Of himself as a man
With that question gone
he didn't ever have to
Say I'm sorry again.
He grew confident and proud
That he had grown into his skin!
Yay me!!!
You go boy!!!
Jan 21, 2020
Jan 21, 2020 at 8:04 PM UTC
Prompt: Explain the story behind a picture from your camera roll
(date of picture taken: August 30th, 2019)
The picture is a simple mirror selfie, but the story has more to do with what I was wearing.
Earlier that day, I went to the mall to shop for my homecoming outfit with
my friend, (REDACTED).
It seems trivial to someone else, I guess, but to me, it was a big deal.
It was because I could drive and because we were at the mall against
my dad's wishes that added to my nervousness of it all.
I went to the boy's section of the clothing store because I'm really short,
and (REDACTED) helped me pick out a suit.
My first suit.
Just wearing the suit jacket, I couldn't help but smile like an idiot.
It was so....right.
I don't know how else to explain it.
It was as if all those little pieces just fell into place and everything felt
all right.
For once, everything in that moment felt good and perfect.
I didn't care about the curious looks from the middle-aged moms.
I felt....euphoric?
Euphoric.
Gender euphoria.
Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 9:30 PM UTC
My body and soul are not synonymous.
When I look at my body,
I still refer to it as she,
I stare into the mirror,
And she looks back at me.
You can regret her but please
Don't forget her.
We'll never be those kids again.
I can't wait to be someone else again.
I'm an anomaly, a shapeshifter.
Aug 27, 2019
Aug 27, 2019 at 9:33 PM UTC
A floral mat
Separates me from
The tile floor
I feel anxious despite the peace
The instructor speaks
My heart stops
Because I know
The chest binder can’t hold
Through another downward-facing dog
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 7:12 PM UTC
Heaviness
The weight on my chest
Excessive flesh
A distinctive sign
Separating me
From the other men in the room
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 7:05 PM UTC
Stitched into this sac of skin at birth.
That fused to your bones
Fabricating a narcotic seamless facade
We pluck at the seams, with crude claws.
Laboring to unravel the lace seams
In vain
Whirling, flickering, suffocating nausea aimed at
Misuse of our pronouns of
Our echoing repulsive abnormal figure.
Funding a doctor to shed our skin.
Mutilating skin and bone to perfection.
For self-acceptance.
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 6:58 PM UTC
It starts in my chest and grows
like a parasite it eats at me
It feeds on my insecurities
It weighs me down
It runs through my veins and spreads
like a virus it breaks me down
It drains me of energy
It slows me down
Its destroying me
Dec 16, 2017
Dec 16, 2017 at 7:34 PM UTC