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"deadname" poems
No matter how many times I'm called beautiful or pretty, of gorgeous, or any other comment, I will always cry when I hear the name You try to call me adoringly... It is dead. I bury it here In the words. I write its tombstone.
0
May 3, 2021
May 3, 2021 at 10:52 AM UTC
Deadname
you ask me why I wear concealing clothes the truth is that I am trying to cover up the paint that you have forced upon me People have sewn in labels and stereotypes into my skin it's a constant struggle as I try to rip out the stitching the second it is gone more is put in place… people think that its ok to deadname and misgender me I'll tell you “its fine! I know its hard to get used to it, don't worry!” but it's not fine, not at all I am not some practice dummy you can use to practice what respect is and isn't I am a human just like you, but I am not like you at all you people who use being trans and nonbinary as a joke you people who treat trans people as if we are mentally ill you people who think its ok to disrespect what and who we are you people who debate if we should be allowed to exist... I am told to “just accept who I am” those people don't get that I do, they are the ones who don't I am here I am real and I am not you
0
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 12:27 AM UTC
I’m Not You
Oh, {deadname}, You're my beautiful daughter. I know you're only lying. You'll never, ever be a boy No matter how long you keep trying. Give up on transitioning. Your mind has been poisoned. The media has consumed you- All the lies eating their way in. Finally, you are my precious baby girl. You're very smart, and you know that. Don't think you're a boy- you're not. You should put on your smiling mask Until you're not sick anymore, -Your loving mother
0
May 3, 2021
May 3, 2021 at 10:19 AM UTC
A Letter
My life has been long and hard. But i have survived. My life has been stressful, and difficult. But i have survived. My life has been short. but it feels long and wasted. My life has had its ups, and downs. every night, i lay in bed, and wonder "Will this be my final breath?" "Will this be the ending of it all?" "Will this be the end of the girl named lucy?" I just wish, that i could be free. Free from this body. Free from this deadname. Free from male pronouns. Free from this male body. But i will never truly be free. as long as i live.
0
Jan 13, 2025
Jan 13, 2025 at 5:48 PM UTC
My life, in a poem.
a deadname is not just a name it is a person that you want to forget that person lived the most tragic life and that person died the most tragic death “deadname, deadname!!” the people all shout but that persons gone, finding their own way about instead, they were replaced by another with a more comfortable smiling face who will follow their own lead and can be who they want to be my deadname does not represent ME.
0
Dec 5, 2024
Dec 5, 2024 at 1:02 PM UTC
a deadname is dead for a reason
My old name is dead to me. That's why they call it a deadname. The person who had that name breathes no more. She was killed by my own hands. She was named for both of her grandmothers, some sort of sentiment to come from a careless mistake. Maybe this is what made it so easy for me to **** her because her name was a throw-away. Her middle name came from the title of a movie that her parents had once liked. But the movie is old and bland, and the plot has no meaning. So her names are futile attempts at trying to right a wrong, trying to make up for something that can never be fixed. I killed her. I wanted her dead so badly, so I killed her. My name is Casey. I am not heartless, though. She wanted me to be Casey. Although I killed her, she still means something to me. I had to **** her in order to move on. She knew that. So I am Casey for her. Casey. It means spear. A weapon. Fitting for a murderer.
0
Apr 14, 2020
Apr 14, 2020 at 1:46 PM UTC
Her Name - Quick Write 4/14/20
I'm uncomfortable I'm uncomfortable in this feminine peice of **** others call a body I look in the mirror and all I see is deadname My body isn't me My body is deadname I figured this out yesterday So I finalized my decision to get top surgery Only to find out that my insurance matches my peice of **** body Top surgery isn't covered Apparently it's cosmetic **** you You don't have to live in a body that's wrong It's not my fault I was put in a body with ***** and curves and bumps in all the wrong places I don't have 5000 dollars because I already had to pay for intensive outpatient therapy that insurance wouldn't cover What's the point of having insurance if it only costs and doesn't pay
0
Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 3:15 PM UTC
POS body to match POS insurance
dear doctor crombie rhymes with cranberry remember that’s what you told me so that i would remember your name and you chuckled like that was the most clever thing in the world but all i cared about was getting the hell out of the **** psychiatric ward because being in that place made me want to try and **** myself all over again which is totally the opposite of what i was hoping for when i agreed to be admitted but i digress because what stuck with me more than the dismal room i was put in that was either as hot as hell-fire or freezing cold to the point where i decided that i’d rather be able to see my breath than be soaked in sweat and your shitty-ass joke was the fact that on our first meeting you told me that you thought my coming out as transgender was nothing more than a diversion tactic now dr. crombie i want you to put yourself in my place i was 16 years old stimming and shaking as you stared me down and then labeled me as nothing more than a diversion tactic and that crushed me it had only been a few days since i swallowed 40 trazodone and accepted the fact that i would not be waking up again and that was all you had to say to me a diversion tactic you pulled down the very core of what i was in two words and my god i hated you so much in that moment because dr. crombie i had known i was not a girl since i was 7 years old and i held that inside me for 9 long years that almost killed me because ********* i knew that i wasn’t a girl for longer than i had lived as a girl and you just didn’t care you took what i had given to you laying myself out before you because i was a scared mentally ill teenager that had just survived a ******* suicide attempt and all you had to say that my being transgender was a diversion tactic and even now three years later that still haunts me the fact that you a heterosexual cisgender male born with a ***** and a flat chest decided to chalk up my 9 years of hell to nothing more than a diversion tactic so dr. crombie tell me what do you think i was diverting from exactly when i had willingly been admitted to a sterile-smelling hellscape where i was forced to relive how i tried to forcibly end my life every day in the ******** little therapy groups that made me feel so much older and hollowed out tell me doctor what exactly was i diverting from what was i trying to hide from and behind by putting myself through the hell of being near constantly dead-named and misgendered and having to pay up into the double digits just to change my legal my deadname and gender marker from an F to an M and being told that i was technically still a girl and being asked why i couldn’t just be a tomboy a lesbian a **** a butch why couldn’t i just be a girl huh why did i have to be a boy so tell me dr. crombie rhymes with cranberry just what exactly was i ******* diverting from
0
Dec 25, 2016
Dec 25, 2016 at 11:29 PM UTC
diversion tactic
dear doctor crombie rhymes with cranberry remember that’s what you told me so that i would remember your name and you chuckled like that was the most clever thing in the world but all i cared about was getting the hell out of the **** psychiatric ward because being in that place made me want to try and **** myself all over again which is totally the opposite of what i was hoping for when i agreed to be admitted but i digress because what stuck with me more than the dismal room i was put in that was either as hot as hell-fire or freezing cold to the point where i decided that i’d rather be able to see my breath than be soaked in sweat and your shitty-ass joke was the fact that on our first meeting you told me that you thought my coming out as transgender was nothing more than a diversion tactic now dr. crombie i want you to put yourself in my place i was 16 years old stimming and shaking as you stared me down and then labeled me as nothing more than a diversion tactic and that crushed me it had only been a few days since i swallowed 40 trazodone and accepted the fact that i would not be waking up again and that was all you had to say to me a diversion tactic you pulled down the very core of what i was in two words and my god i hated you so much in that moment because dr. crombie i had known i was not a girl since i was 7 years old and i held that inside me for 9 long years that almost killed me because ********* i knew that i wasn’t a girl for longer than i had lived as a girl and you just didn’t care you took what i had given to you laying myself out before you because i was a scared mentally ill teenager that had just survived a ******* suicide attempt and all you had to say that my being transgender was a diversion tactic and even now three years later that still haunts me the fact that you a heterosexual cisgender male born with a ***** and a flat chest decided to chalk up my 9 years of hell to nothing more than a diversion tactic so dr. crombie tell me what do you think i was diverting from exactly when i had willingly been admitted to a sterile-smelling hellscape where i was forced to relive how i tried to forcibly end my life every day in the ******** little therapy groups that made me feel so much older and hollowed out tell me doctor what exactly was i diverting from what was i trying to hide from and behind by putting myself through the hell of being near constantly dead-named and misgendered and having to pay up into the double digits just to change my legal my deadname and gender marker from an F to an M and being told that i was technically still a girl and being asked why i couldn’t just be a tomboy a lesbian a **** a butch why couldn’t i just be a girl huh why did i have to be a boy so tell me dr. crombie rhymes with cranberry just what exactly was i ******* diverting from
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98
Dear Deadname, Someday I will be able to look at old pictures of you without disgust I will look at your long dark hair and remember how much you loved it Loved running you hands through it as you untangled it from its curls I will remember how it felt between my own fingers Silky and smooth and how much I loved it myself Your eyes that were so dark they looked black And how at the mention of books, or cake they would light up like the Fourth of July How your smile was so full, and real With no underlying intent Especially how your skin would become so dark in summer Yet so pale in winter, and still look beautiful on you Even your petite shape was something I fell in love with How you fit so perfectly in anyone's arms And maybe even one day I will be able to utter your name I am not ready yet, though your name is a beautiful one I want you to understand that some day I'll love you but until then                                                                                          Sincerely, Rowan
0
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 11:13 PM UTC
Someday I'll Love Deadname
Hey. It's me, again. Probably not such a surprise, is it? I wrote you a whole lot of these letters. About all 9 of them ended up in the trash. Partly because they just 'weren't right,' but the biggest part was because I was too self-concious to give it to you. So, yeah, I'm in love with you. You may, or may not know. I really understand it if you chose to ignore that part. And, I like you, okay? Not only as in 'in-love,' but as a friend too. You were there when I needed someone, and I'm really glad that you were, cheesy as it sounds. It's kinda messed up to be honest. (I'm kinda messed up too) And, I feel like a creep again. What about this idea; You read this letter, You ignore it, I drown in sadness like I usually do (probably) and I never talk to you again. My feelings will hopefully dissapear and you can live a happy life with your friends and family without me. Sometimes I really wish I could do that. God knows I'm way to helpless for it. I'm sorry, this has really turned into one big mess. I tried to write it with my _own_ mind, but that just keeps wandering off. I'm not sure what to say anymore. Sorry man.  Uh, there's a little "poem" on the back for you. I still have to write it, but, you can see. Sincerely, Me
0
Sep 17, 2019
Sep 17, 2019 at 1:59 PM UTC
Dear [Deadname], (1)
Today I was sitting at the dinner table Behind a baked potato Scared Uncomfortable Anxious While my parents kept watching me I sat there While my brother And my sister Ate with no problem No second thought **** i wish i could be like that. When everyone else got up My mom looked at me And said out loud "can you just eat it? Its not that hard." The dumb thing is She thinks shes my savior But she makes me feel like I belong in an asylum Everyone was looking at me Judging While tears slowly fall From my blurry eyes The thing is She doesnt even understand She thinks i dont want to eat But I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't I can't "I cant." I mouthed Silently And she said "Yes you can! Youre just being dramatic." No, not said. Exclaimed She told me to take a few bites I did And I got up and walked away And set my 1/10 empty plate Next to the sink. I went downstairs. She yelled down the stairs "deadname, get up here. You need to eat more food." I ate some more. And then I went back down To sit with the guilt I know shes trying to help But please dont tell me to try to be grateful Because she is just making things worse My therapist agreed The hospital agreed So now I will sit And cry I'm my room Try to avoid getting blood stains on my sheets Try to hide my tool Try to get better Because I do want to But these people dont ******* understand. And they need to stop pretending that they do.
0
Nov 21, 2024
Nov 21, 2024 at 9:33 PM UTC
Untitled VII
They call my name and I fall Falling, Falling yes Falling It has me feeling quite tall You call my name and I fall Falling, falling, yes Falling I shrink to the ground, feeling small And hey deadname I hate your stupid guts You ruined everything and anything there's no one else to blame And oh my God I'm sorry for fixing your mistakes I didn't know you'd mind so much Now people look at me differently They seem to pray to you God "Change her" they ask of you intently spewing hate and judgement gently It only hurts if it has sharp edges Sugar coated pills I take daily And hey deadname I hate your stupid guts You ruined everything and anything there's no one else to blame And oh my God I'm sorry for fixing your mistakes I didn't know you'd mind so much Colors cover my body and brain Sticky thoughts, sticky hands But I'm the one to blame I treat the sickness you gave Without your sugar coated drug acceptance is what I crave
0
Aug 22, 2022
Aug 22, 2022 at 5:11 PM UTC
Deadname
Hey. Guess you'll know it's me by now. I don't really know where to start. Again, I wrote you a ton of these kind of letters. They all ended up in the trash too. You know, It kinda suprises me. You said that you read the line "I'm in love with you." from the last poem I sent you, thirty times. but, In the letter I wrote you, I said it too. I really thought you'd noticed. I really thought you already knew. Not that it matters a lot anymore now. In a good way though. I really don't understand the stuff you do to me. remember the first day of school, when we hugged in the middle of the hallway? Lucky me, you walked away for a sec. I was shaking, it surprised me you didn't see. How? I don't know. Or when you told me; "I would date you." And my brain just, stopped. I literally couldn't think anymore. It really felt like a dream, and it still does. I dreamt about you last night, I vaguely remember. It was kind of a nightmare, but before it got scary I woke up. But seriously, when I think about you I just, I don't know man. Shit's confusing. But yeah, I really am head-over-heels in love with you. And, I don't know what's gonna happen next, but I know it'll be a good thing. Sincerely, me.
0
Sep 23, 2019
Sep 23, 2019 at 1:38 PM UTC
Dear [Deadname], (2)
The name. it gives me a fluttering in my stomach a zing in my heart a leaping feeling the feeling of running to feel the wind in my hair never stopping like eating sopping wet waffles sugary sweet sticky on a plastic plate becoming a kid again. But once I fly too high on that eternal flaming phoenix bird, called false confidence, the ashes begin to fall alongside me. Icarus is not my name but my intention, of dreaming too big hoping too much... believing... in such a human invention. Wings to let me fly like a Robin. Angry and sad we fall to be reborn into a hope as false as we are as false as I am. For the truth left me as soon as I was born and will lay dormant with me till I die.
0
May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 2:19 AM UTC
The not so dead Deadname
The sixteen-year-old dishwasher at work told me she checks the schedule-hoping we’ll share the same shifts. She said she missed me when I took a day off. A new hire said I have a “wholesome vibe,” like it was the kindest thing he could offer. A new friend and I sat in his new room, talking about how hard it is to make friends as adults-how rare it is when it feels this easy. My best friend, miles away, messages to say she got the postcard I sent. She says she loves me. The one I’m dating tells me I can make mistakes without being a mistake. A stranger-turned-friend listed all the things she liked about me-minutes after we met. I didn’t know what to say. I smile for hours. My six-year-old cousins video call me, bursting with stories about their day with my parents. They wave a pride flag on a picnic blanket in the backyard, proud of their brave big cousin. They correct anyone who calls me by my deadname like it’s the easiest truth in the world. My mom checks in. She knows it’s been a heavy week. My dad spends his free time under the hood of my car, my mom hands me her keys so I don’t have to worry. I visit an old friend's memorial, tell him everything I wish I could have said in person. The wind listens. I think he does, too. My best friend and I scream old songs in the car, drive to a park by the water, swing until we’re dizzy and aching, and laugh because we’re not kids anymore-but we still want to feel like it. Another friend is moving out on his own. He asks me to help him make the space feel like home. I say yes, of course. It's an honor. A best friend and I trade 'I miss yous' like warm hugs un words. I buy concert tickets for another best friend. It’s one of my favorite artists. We’ll sing ourselves hoarse. I text my childhood best friend: Happy Pride. Two words that carry years. I go to a Pride party with my parents and friends. I feel the weight of belonging and it is light. I plan to trade plants with a girl from work. Roots change hands. Something grows. And for a moment-no, longer than a moment-I realize:I am overflowing with love.
0
Jun 17, 2025
Jun 17, 2025 at 11:43 AM UTC
The past few sunrises and the love that's found me.
The sixteen-year-old dishwasher at work told me she checks the schedule-hoping we’ll share the same shifts. She said she missed me when I took a day off. A new hire said I have a “wholesome vibe,” like it was the kindest thing he could offer. A new friend and I sat in his new room, talking about how hard it is to make friends as adults-how rare it is when it feels this easy. My best friend, miles away, messages to say she got the postcard I sent. She says she loves me. The one I’m dating tells me I can make mistakes without being a mistake. A stranger-turned-friend listed all the things she liked about me-minutes after we met. I didn’t know what to say. I smile for hours. My six-year-old cousins video call me, bursting with stories about their day with my parents. They wave a pride flag on a picnic blanket in the backyard, proud of their brave big cousin. They correct anyone who calls me by my deadname like it’s the easiest truth in the world. My mom checks in. She knows it’s been a heavy week. My dad spends his free time under the hood of my car, my mom hands me her keys so I don’t have to worry. I visit an old friend's memorial, tell him everything I wish I could have said in person. The wind listens. I think he does, too. My best friend and I scream old songs in the car, drive to a park by the water, swing until we’re dizzy and aching, and laugh because we’re not kids anymore-but we still want to feel like it. Another friend is moving out on his own. He asks me to help him make the space feel like home. I say yes, of course. It's an honor. A best friend and I trade 'I miss yous' like warm hugs un words. I buy concert tickets for another best friend. It’s one of my favorite artists. We’ll sing ourselves hoarse. I text my childhood best friend: Happy Pride. Two words that carry years. I go to a Pride party with my parents and friends. I feel the weight of belonging and it is light. I plan to trade plants with a girl from work. Roots change hands. Something grows. And for a moment-no, longer than a moment-I realize:I am overflowing with love.
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19
So my brain thought of another stupid thing;  "You don't deserve to hurt this way. You don't deserve to hurt at all. So please, let me in. I will help protect you from yourself. You've been there so many times, I don't want you to fall." And it's true. I don't know if I will be able to fix you with poetry and stupid nursery rhymes, but I will try. I don't think I'll be able to fix you at all. Maybe I am, who knows? I'll always try. Will you just let me in? Not only in your mind, not only in your words, but in your heart? I want to help you with every bit that I can. And, I get that's not enough. My words will never be enough. But, I will try. So please give me the chance to? That would be enough. Whatever horrible things it are that you're feeling, I will try to understand them. To understand them, and to help you get them away. Because you don't deserve to feel bad. You don't and you never did. And I get that my words will never be good enough to live up to your expectations, but please, please. Will you give me a chance? I love you, I really do. So let me help you, let me in. It doesn't have to be soon, it doesn't have to go fast. But remember that whenever you need me, I'll be there waiting. Waiting with all my words. To make you feelbetter, even in the slightest way.
0
Oct 7, 2019
Oct 7, 2019 at 2:52 PM UTC
Dear [Deadname], (4)
Dear {Deadname,} Hi, it's me again. I just... I needed to write. I feel like I'm losing you, if I ever had you. You feel like a stranger to me, like somebody I used to know. It's like you're here, but you've dissapeared. Maybe that's because I am, in fact, losing you. Maybe that's because you're losing yourself in this place. Or, we're not losing anything. I don't know, And I want to figure it out but I don't know how to do that. I want to get to know you. I thought I did, but recently the world's been changing a lot, you know? We're all a little lost, and I know I need you here. You're mine, I know that, that's more than I could ever ask for already, but still.. It just doesn't feel right, and I wanna make it right. I don't know how, but maybe you can help me out. I'm sorry. I really am. For not knowing how to love you, or for not knowing how to help you. I wanna be there for you, but I feel like I'm failing. As a person, a brother, a boyfriend, a son. I'm falling, but maybe you can help me up? Forever yours Sincerely, Me
0
Nov 8, 2019
Nov 8, 2019 at 5:27 AM UTC
Dear [Deadname,] (7)
Hey. Our philosophy teacher gave us an assignment about something with luck and hapiness, so I'm writing to you again. (Not that there's a difference) I love you. You make me one of the happiest people in the world. And, I'm really glad that you are in my life. I really hope you feel the same thing. You make my heart skip a few beats whenever I see one of your texts popping up on my screen. You manage to make me smile at any hour of the day. You light up the world when it's too dark for me to see. You make me so happy. In a  that no one else does. You make me smile in such a manner that people sometimes ask what the cause is of this 'happening.' You're just, everything? You're beautiful, by the way. I'm gonna tell you until you believe me. Because you really are beautiful. People always say that you look better when you laugh, but you don't even need to smile. Not that I don't want you to smile- You smiling is one of the best things in the world to me. I don't really know how to explain. I'm wondering why I keep writing everything down. We don't live in the 17th century anymore. Ah well, not that it matters. Sometimes I'm also wondering if you think about me a lot. If you ever do to be honest. But mostly, what you think in those cases. It's not really a bother, but it pops up in my mind at times. When I say this, I think that you must also know that I think about you a lot. Whenever I see a poem (Which I do, a lot) that reminds me of you or something, I get a little distracted from whatever I was doing. But, in a good way. I think. Can it ever be bad to think about someone a lot? It probably just shows how much you care, which I also do, a lot. I do really care about you. You're an amazing human being and I love you. It always surprises me how fast I can fill a page whenever I write something for, or about you. Well, it's not really 'surprising' me. More like 'reminder of how much I'm in love with you.' Welp. It's a good thing though, probably. I mean, I'm just writing stuff. It's not like I'm bothering anyone. (I hope?) And it just keeps getting better. You make my life a little better every day. So, thank you. Really. I'm so happy you're here. (You're adorable by the way) And hopefully, it will stay like this for a little while. Sincerely, Me
0
Sep 27, 2019
Sep 27, 2019 at 12:41 PM UTC
Dear [Deadname], (3)
Hey. Our philosophy teacher gave us an assignment about something with luck and hapiness, so I'm writing to you again. (Not that there's a difference) I love you. You make me one of the happiest people in the world. And, I'm really glad that you are in my life. I really hope you feel the same thing. You make my heart skip a few beats whenever I see one of your texts popping up on my screen. You manage to make me smile at any hour of the day. You light up the world when it's too dark for me to see. You make me so happy. In a  that no one else does. You make me smile in such a manner that people sometimes ask what the cause is of this 'happening.' You're just, everything? You're beautiful, by the way. I'm gonna tell you until you believe me. Because you really are beautiful. People always say that you look better when you laugh, but you don't even need to smile. Not that I don't want you to smile- You smiling is one of the best things in the world to me. I don't really know how to explain. I'm wondering why I keep writing everything down. We don't live in the 17th century anymore. Ah well, not that it matters. Sometimes I'm also wondering if you think about me a lot. If you ever do to be honest. But mostly, what you think in those cases. It's not really a bother, but it pops up in my mind at times. When I say this, I think that you must also know that I think about you a lot. Whenever I see a poem (Which I do, a lot) that reminds me of you or something, I get a little distracted from whatever I was doing. But, in a good way. I think. Can it ever be bad to think about someone a lot? It probably just shows how much you care, which I also do, a lot. I do really care about you. You're an amazing human being and I love you. It always surprises me how fast I can fill a page whenever I write something for, or about you. Well, it's not really 'surprising' me. More like 'reminder of how much I'm in love with you.' Welp. It's a good thing though, probably. I mean, I'm just writing stuff. It's not like I'm bothering anyone. (I hope?) And it just keeps getting better. You make my life a little better every day. So, thank you. Really. I'm so happy you're here. (You're adorable by the way) And hopefully, it will stay like this for a little while. Sincerely, Me
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4
Dear {Deadname}, It's been a while, I'm sorry. I don't know if you want me to write to you, or if you want me to just talk. Maybe you don't even want that, I don't know. Maybe you just want me to show you how much I love you physically. (I don't mind any of that.) It's okay. Take your time to figure it out. Love's a weird thing. So is writing to you. Don't get me wrong, I love it, but it's different now you're mine. The world changed, in a good way, but even good changes are different. I know that I want to love you. I just don't quite now how to love you yet, but I'll figure it out. We'll figure it out. Maybe it's kissing you every day, maybe it's writing a letter every night. Maybe it's both, or none at all. Love is not 'a thing.' It's different every single time. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. You have needs, things you want. So do I. I don't think I know you that well, and that's alright. (I hope...) I wanna get to know you. In every way. I don't know how. I don't know what the meaning of this letter is, but maybe that's the meaning. Forever yours Sincerely, Me
0
Nov 7, 2019
Nov 7, 2019 at 5:40 AM UTC
Dear [Deadname], (6)
The cold stone planted in the ground. The wet grass surrounding the freshly dug area. The soft dirt traveling six feet deep, and deeper. The howling wind wanting to brush my face, but feeling nothing. The cries of others wishing they could wake me from my eternal slumber. The date of my first day carved indefinitely. The date of my final day is placed beside it. The deadname wrongly given, engraved eternally but never having sounded quite right. The word ‘Daughter’ lasting forever, but never having felt like it quite fit. My worst fear is to die with the wrong name on my tombstone. My worst fear is to be buried and remembered wrong. To not be remembered as me.
0
May 11, 2021
May 11, 2021 at 9:29 AM UTC
My Worst Fear
Hey. Here's another letter kinda thing. Been writing these a lot lately. In my mind, never on paper. I don't really know how to explain what I feel anymore. It's like, I have this sense of feeling? Like I know that they're here, but I just can't seem to find them? Like I can see someone else in front of me, while knowing that they are a person with feelings and thoughs, but not being able to recognise them. Not being able to see the person standing there. Like I can see all of it, but not knowing that it's there. It kinda scares me, in a way. Like I see myself, but not me. Like I see something I was, that people still see as me. I don't know anymore. I've been trying to get my feelings out, and I still am, I just don't succeed often. This is seemingly the only way to get out whatever I'm thinking or feeling. Which is a lot, but also nothing at the same time. I feel lost, so incredibly lost. The world's passing me by and I'm behind a ******* window trying to reach it, but I can't. I never did. I just taught people how to communicate with me through that stupid barrier. It never went away. But if people don't come close to you they won't notice that, so it's fine I guess. And then you came in and smashed the entire thing with a ******* hammer. I wasn't used to opening up to people, especially not people who understand. But, I'm glad I did, and glad that you are here to listen. I don't open up to people much. Been botteling these emotions since 2006, so it's hard to open the bottle now. But I'm trying, and I can't thank you enough for being there with me. Thank you, so much. I love you, bye.
0
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 2:52 PM UTC
Dear [Deadname], (5)
Hey. Here's another letter kinda thing. Been writing these a lot lately. In my mind, never on paper. I don't really know how to explain what I feel anymore. It's like, I have this sense of feeling? Like I know that they're here, but I just can't seem to find them? Like I can see someone else in front of me, while knowing that they are a person with feelings and thoughs, but not being able to recognise them. Not being able to see the person standing there. Like I can see all of it, but not knowing that it's there. It kinda scares me, in a way. Like I see myself, but not me. Like I see something I was, that people still see as me. I don't know anymore. I've been trying to get my feelings out, and I still am, I just don't succeed often. This is seemingly the only way to get out whatever I'm thinking or feeling. Which is a lot, but also nothing at the same time. I feel lost, so incredibly lost. The world's passing me by and I'm behind a ******* window trying to reach it, but I can't. I never did. I just taught people how to communicate with me through that stupid barrier. It never went away. But if people don't come close to you they won't notice that, so it's fine I guess. And then you came in and smashed the entire thing with a ******* hammer. I wasn't used to opening up to people, especially not people who understand. But, I'm glad I did, and glad that you are here to listen. I don't open up to people much. Been botteling these emotions since 2006, so it's hard to open the bottle now. But I'm trying, and I can't thank you enough for being there with me. Thank you, so much. I love you, bye.
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