#transmasculine
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
When I stare at my face,
And look deep in the mirror,
It's _never_ the love that creeps in,
_Always_ the 'horror'
I see a girl standing there.
An average looking girl.
She's not to tall,
But also not short.
She has brown hair up to her shoulders,
With blue and indigo streaks in it.
She's wearing pants that are a little bit too big,
Because her disorders make her lose weight.
She's wearing a red and black 'lumberjack blouse'
It's a little too big, it's from the men's departement.
She has a pretty small mouth,
But her lips are pink, and kind of plumped
She has bushy eyebrows,
But not in an ugly way?
She has beautiful grey, blue, green eyes.
It depends on the day and her mood.
She has a little bit of a crooked nose,
That a tiny bit too big for her face.
She has a chubby face, not so much
But she's a little chubby over all.
She has braces on her teeth,
But that's pretty common these days.
She has a pretty normal body,
Normal figure, a little on the "fat" side.
She has an arm full of scars,
But they have always been there, so it's fine.
And all of the above,
Every day that's what I see.
But what I see in the mirror,
She's a girl.
She is not me.
Sep 13, 2019
Sep 13, 2019 at 3:02 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
He stands at the precipice of their design,
Losing something in the night air.
The edge by which he stands is still and cold.
My ribcage hurts but I don’t want to admit it.
It just feels so nice.
To have a flat chest.
To be a boy.
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 1:22 AM UTC