"transitioning" poems
This isn't Rome
I'm standing still because of statutes
Stone grill: I a carved marble statue
not a muscle dares,
Near frozen by the fear,
let it go I hear
over shoulder: perfect pass
if I get shot over a penalty
Is it clear?
my arms are arms?
a load chopper; in his shades,
do those aviators make me even darker?
(if I studied aviation I could take off I can hover, I can…)
Wait.
he's moving closer,
every hair strand an antenna,
I can feel him,
The smell of disdain on his glare,
stained blood on his hands,
another brother,
my brother
Guiltier with every pace so
-- show your hands,
foot mixed with concrete
I take this order serious,
my motions are motive
and mistaken for resist,
Wait.
Is it his stare or am I ******
(Why did I decide to go my friends wouldn't believe this…)
limitations to the thoughts;
am I arrested or caught?
I'm cold on the surface,
Erode so slow is my sediment evidence,
A blue god so I'm pacified,
I'm hesitant,
he calls and I say that I'm innocent,
I'm witnessing
the transitioning from eruption to ocean
-- volcanic
Blue Medusa,
can you only sculpt destruction?
(I'm not 3 dimensional, I'm real and I matter, I'm real and I matter)
I'm real,
But I shatter,
Gravel if determined that I'm rude so I can't breath,
Gravel if My license plate removed I don't leave,
I don't speak,
I don't flee,
I'm not free,
I believe,
That this happen to my mothers, mother
mothers' brother,
Brother from another was granite
and granted he's valuable
but only in a home
-- of course
I'm quartz in the making
A corpse still shaking
Cause a wallet was mistaken
Or I.D. was misplaced
So, I'm on the rocks
since the bar says that I'm a criminal,
velvet rope divider marks my life
and a vigil,
a wake,
or a hashtag,
you choose,
glass house,
Cold Stone’s,
rocky road,
Medusa licks his finger tips
same finger which
petrified me in the first place,
Reminded I'm in Rome
as I'm standing there motionless
a statue for display
or a trophy for the kitchen,
this art is not for sale
there will be no shipping,
With solidarity
through our solidification,
It won't matter if I look back,
I Matter and I’m Black.
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 10:56 AM UTC
Listening
To the ever so quite
Transitioning
Of ideas
Slipping into blissful
Ignorance
And the echoing
Of this parasitic
Interdependence
And everything is
Just another wavelength
Stretching its existence
To the edge of outer space
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
I tried sleeping it off, but I often found myself stuck in a dream transitioning to a nightmare.
I tried not sleeping at all, but even the smallest occurences brought you to my eyes.
I tried writing, but even the purest words were tainted by your memory.
I tried loving again, but once a house collapses there is no room where there are no rooms.
I tried everything I could think of to cure the ailment I once thought you were brought upon to expel.
I tried everything until I finally tried everything.
I truly am sorry I couldn't fight it any longer, but the days were too long, and the thoughts were too plenty.
Please think not of it as my quitting, but as your winning.
For this day forward, my beloved, I shall feel no pain.
Goodnight to you for the last, My Last, and may your life be the sweetest dream I forever hoped for you.
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 8:41 PM UTC
Drift
Noun
A slow and gradual movement or change from one place, condition, etc. to another
Drifting
Verb
The ********* feeling in the world
It’s like, were still friends but we’re transitioning into acquaintances,
maybe even strangers in the near future
Daily conversations start to get rusty
And every word said feels like so much effort
Real talk, becomes small talk, and soon, maybe even no talk
Maybe we’ve just exhausted the list of things to talk about
And you know everything you wanted to know about me and I know everything I wanted to know about you
Or maybe you’ve reached your word limit or something, I don’t really know
But what most people don’t know about drifting is that
Drifting can be a one sided process
Like I’m here freaking out about our friendship and how we haven’t talked in days
And you're just there, probably not even noticing that we haven’t had a single conversation
If our friendship was a group work
I’d be that person doing everything, trying to fix things, putting so much effort
And you’re the one who seenzones the facebook group chat
It’s like we were on boats and suddenly a current rips us apart and if you just pull me in your boat everything will be okay
But no, the current is pulling me away from you and I am using all my strength to paddle back to you
And you don’t even notice and you even find the time to take a swim
Our friendship was a rubberband
You were holding one end, I was holding the other,
The rubberband stretched as the friendship grew, it got tighter and tighter
and suddenly, you decided that rubber bands weren't cool so you let go and i got slapped in the face by our friendship
It’s like wanting to chase you, but not wanting to chase you
Because it can come off as clingy
It’s like wanting to talk to you but I don’t
because I don’t want to disturb you
and that ***** cos you're the only one I want to talk to
but I'm probably not the one you want to talk to
so I just scratch the idea out of my head
and think of another way to talk to the person I once had endless conversations with
the hardest part in drifting is deciding what to do
should I let go?
Because they say that drifting is just a sign from God that you’ve learned everything you can from that person, right
And if I do let you go and we’re meant to stay friends aren’t we eventually going to find our way back to each other?
Or should I hold on, on this one-sided stretched rubberband of ours
and try to fix something that might not even be broken in your eyes
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 12:24 PM UTC
I won't be the weak one,
Although when I think and speak
I may tweak some I'm just
Searching for reasons
To justify the swell.
I will ride the undertow
Sunken beneath bass lines
And blunt tails
Intending to take it slow.
But I get a little excited sometimes, you know.
So when this undertow undoubtedly
Washes me ashore
I'll be the imaginary statue
Erected in my honor
Proudly saluting every fleeting
Emotion that sailed
Straight through my harbor.
You see,
Harboring hatred is a trait
I forfeited
To make way for the minuscule moments and glimpses
Of human existence penetrating
Layers of jade and years
Of conditioning and I am successfully
Transitioning into persistently
Acknowledging the raindrops
As they hit the pavement and pop.
You see some people feel the rain
While others just get wet,
A wise Rastafarian
Once famously said.
And I think on it all
Far too frequently for a quiet mind
But I've never had one of those
Not even after rolling papers
Intertwine and smoke fills my eyes,
Because I am accustomed
To a constant consciousness
And I'd much rather this
Than nothingness
And thus I sit, contemplating
Consequence
Aspiring to avoid the guilt of
Seasons past,
For I am past the point of
Punishment and pain ghosts and
I have plenty of pangs from all
The echoes
In my brain and in these
Rattled apartment's stains
It's not all in vain
Life grows these varicose
Veins
Colored-in, crawling across the
Window panes
Of the chamber where my soul remained
Through the bridge until the end of
The refrain.
I am in reign.
I rock the crown.
I roll the dice when
I am down
I try to think twice
Before I frown
I contemplate the value
Of the men that I allow
To lay me down
Now,
I am grown and I am proud
Because I am humble
And I'm not loud
Any longer,
I listen
To the subtle sounds of
Human respiration.
I am the incarnation
Of ancient incantations that
Shake down the walls which
Separate us all
All the way to the ground.
True power is found
Where unity resounds.
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 3:26 PM UTC
I needed safe schools because my parents did not have the education to teach me what my feelings about myself were.
I needed safe schools because I did not have the education to know about myself.
I needed safe schools because I was educated that liking people of the same *** was a sin.
I needed safe schools because I was taught that I was wrong to feel the way I felt about myself.
I needed safe schools because my peers do not know how to talk respectfully to a trans person.
I needed safe schools because I had no refuge from the judgement of others.
I needed safe schools because I didn't know that transitioning was a possibility.
I needed safe schools because I felt I had to suffer in silence, believing I was the only person who felt like I did.
I needed safe schools because education is key to a functioning society.
I needed safe schools because it is a chance to better the future.
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 1:48 AM UTC
The Annual POCU Fashion Show held by the campus organization “People of Color United,” was held in the Student Activities Center on Saturday, April 18. The fashion show is the final activity of the year held by POCU. Junior Martell Prayear and senior Miranda Jackson were the show’s hosts and announcers.
The fashion show is a competition where various designers, or teams of designers, are required to create outfits that adhere to a general theme, but also incorporate the designer’s unique, personal concepts. This year, the general theme for the fashion show was: Thrift Shop. Each designer, or group of designers, was required to utilize clothes purchased from the local Goodwill and maintain a $50 budget. Preparations for the event, Jackson said, were very short. “I was really surprised how well it turned out, because we started practicing for the show at four o’clock that day,” Jackson said. “They typically start practicing way a head of time.” Despite the delayed preparation, the fashion show was an overall success. The first designer to present at the fashion show was Victoria Webster.
Webster’s fashion line was inspired by professional work attire. “I think it can be hard transitioning college wear into professional wear, on a budget,” Webster said of her outfits. Webster was able to find three models to wear the clothes, which she said was a combination of the model’s personal items, as well as those purchased through Goodwill. The second fashion line presented at the fashion show was designed by Iyana Lynch. For her personal theme, Lynch designed outfits that were inspired by the different seasons. The third designer to present that evening was Alyssa Nieset. Inspired by 90’s menswear, Nieset designed a line of androgynous outfits. The final clothing line presented was a team effort from: Jeanita Blue and Angel Powell.
Their theme was considered “90’s Reloaded,” and featured various throwbacks to 1990’s pop culture such as TLC and The Spice Girls. Blue said that most of the outfits in their fashion line were inspired by “eco-friendly fashion,” and were intended to decrease hesitation toward shopping at thrift stores. While the judges finalized the scores for each designer or team, the Urban Dance Association entertained the crowd with a quick performance. The judge’s scores resulted in a tie between Jeanita Blue & Angel Powell, and Iyana Lynch. Despite the general tie, Blue and Powell were awarded first place, while Lynch was granted second place. There was an off-campus reception held in Cleveland after the event. Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/purple-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/green-formal-dresses
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 10:36 PM UTC
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
May 3, 2021
May 3, 2021 at 10:19 AM UTC
1. the night is all the day wishes it could be; it's better for thinking, and loving, and dreaming.
2. each night i go out to look at the sky and admire the stars.
3. to see the stars, a certain amount of darkness is required.
4. all the darkness in the world can't ***** out the light from a single candle.
5. i overthink impossible amounts of scenarios, as many as the infinite stars spanning the sky.
6. you are the last thing on my mind as i fall asleep.
7. you are all i ever dream about.
8. you are the first thing on my mind when i wake.
9. you don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or their talent.
10. you love them because they sing a song that only you can hear, a song that resonates and harmonizes with your soul.
11. music is a language, just like english or spanish, that's why it's difficult for some people to learn and understand.
12. the sky transitioning from cool blue to warm orange-pinks to freckled black gives off a 5-1 cadence feel.
13. the moon shines brightest when there is no one there to see.
14. the sun may watch me during the day, but it's the moon who knows all my secrets and desires.
15. like the stars, gentle and beautiful, you are exactly like them: i couldn’t be with you, only admire you.
Jan 16, 2021
Jan 16, 2021 at 9:21 PM UTC
Cardinal sun rose
blooming as the
budding flower.
Buddha chants in the
chimes of birds
ethereal caught in gradual hot wind,
Darjeeling tea steam rises on tabletop my
mind is waking over Indonesian morning.
Foreign babel as hours draw even
cacophony of hurricane horns
the Denpasar traffic drumming
chorus midst markets where
radio emitting Li Zengguang
dizi dizzily prancing into the
assortments of spice and coiling fabrics
patterns potent azure and golden
royalty brass clatter caged noise
boiling *** cries the Orient!
Overgrowth spots the charring temples
in majesty and abundance cradling the narrow
Balinese streets while tropic palm
and orchid spring swells the soils.
Ardent sun sheaths eastern archipelagos,
religious offerings canvas sidewalks
incense burning in overwhelming
bouquets of efflorescence smelling
daedal tapestries within the paradise.
Sun goes on setting the jewel easing
underneath the horizon,
butterflies sway in rest
hearts on fire
the ceremonies have finished.
Thunder shrieks against the sea
torrential rain firing on villa ceilings.
My eyes set to sleep
consciousness transitioning
between two dreams.
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
Thoughts race in this jagged mind of mine
head spinning and mind collapsing
what am I?
Am I a man or a woman?
Born male
yet I don't identify
I dress up as a female
yet I don't identify
torn between these two structures
that classify the human gender
yet I don't identify
It's killing me to realize
Maybe I'm both
maybe I'm not neither
so much to figure out
so much to process
the thoughts keep racing
beginning to spiral out of control
Pronouns he, him and his
never really fit
the pronouns she, her and hers
only left scars
at first I thought of transitioning
to clear out my head
but now it's like a stab wound
festering upon my soul
am I a man
or am I a woman
they both seem so permanent
and yet seem doable
so maybe I a both
but that's my choice to find
I like being called he
yet I like being called she
I like being called they
so maybe I'm both and neither in a whole
so call me crazy
say that I'm broken
say that I'm not right in my head
but at least I have the courage to be me
Dec 10, 2020
Dec 10, 2020 at 10:49 AM UTC
I am wrapped in a firm squeeze.
This cocoon is tight! (so tight)
I fight to find comfortability.
(Restless) in this nest.
This Transitioning is hurting me! (tears)
Questioning the worth of these wings,
can I sustain this agony?
If I stop fighting,
will this squeeze be lighten? (maybe)
waiting... waiting... waiting
Patiently,
Until, this cocoon cracks and exposes my wings.
~ButterFly εїз 2013©
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC
Seeing me anxious more than a lot,
The old witch relented a little,
She let me breathe freely,
Back transformed into her daughter,
She touched my forehead,
Then I realized it was sweaty,
Seeing her lovely care I smiled a bit.
So she now lit up a fragrant incense,
The incense seemed so soothing,
She then edged closer to me,
Transcendental wings were visible,
She came even closer to me,
Then the wings simply vanished,
So traceless as if never been there.
It must have been another illusion,
The very day I had set sail to sea,
It was probably carrying over,
Troubling me each non and then,
In my wild dreams I had seen,
True she could not be & was not,
In my life the torment was written.
Soon I was pleading to her teary-eyed,
"Please don't torment me, it hurts!"
She looked at me with affection,
And said, "But I truly love you, sailor,"
She advanced forwards further,
***"Have you forgotten all those nights?
Did you even forget the night at sea?"***
I first remembered that night at sea,
The night back at home came next,
I had been seduced by her magic,
This was the real picture every time,
I was weak but I still felt warmer,
The night ship feels like yesterday,
I was in confusion about what to do.
Her face was transitioning rapidly,
The old mother to her daughter,
Her daughter to that very angel,
And back to the old mother witch,
Her smile turned into laughter,
The witch laughing at my cries,
Her face here was contorted a lot.
She seemed to be struggling a lot,
As though fight ensued within,
Soon I figured it out by myself,
First I must **** the witch to help,
So I looked around & grabbed,
Axe that I did spot lying there,
Spot on I killed the witch right then.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 4:32 AM UTC
Lakes and oceans and blue seas
All alike your body waves
Transitioning every second
Holding whales by your knees
Mountains and cliffs and hills
Ginormous how your body weighs
Descending every second
Shaking hot lava off for thrills
Galaxies and planets and stars
Cuddling your minute existence
Plummeting every second
Making forever feel like daunting hours
Us and me and you
Destroying nothing and everything
Perceptive every second
In constant debt to our bodies that's due
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 3:15 AM UTC
I think she lost a part of herself,
picking up the pieces. And that's
okay; the universe works because
something is given for
something to be gained.
Her parents were red-blooded
Americans; they drank confirmation-
bias and the minimization of minorities.
They would make her problems as small
as the countries, they couldn't find on a map,
but could find in their hearts to demonize.
Oh yes, the demons: what used to
afflict her and corrupt her pure heart.
To them, she wasn't a teenager --
a child -- stressed from carrying a
family, featuring a mother with
a brain tumor; guest starring
'I-stunt-your-growth-with-Jesus'
as the understudy for mental
health awareness.
No, she wasn't a child; she was
a burden because she cut herself,
because her legs grew too thin;
as thin as the crucifixes around
the proud, turning necks, holding
dismissive heads of 'Why-would-
you-want-to-be-dead' Christians
and 'I-don't-understand-what-isn't-
in-the-Bible' fat, white relatives.
To make things short as her
life could have been: she dipped
in and out of drugs, featuring
****** and pills that would
dip in and out of her body,
like a fool's gold life jacket,
soaking in the waves of her
pale, transitioning to adulthood,
twenty year-old waters.
She saved herself, and
they thanked God and the
boy and mostly everyone
else but her. And the little
brother sat, sinking in a seat
softer than his deep-seated
hateful beliefs. But, the
truth is that she saved not
only herself, but also the
handsome, white, tall,
smart, talented image of
'Holy-shit-what-a-tall-
drink-of-privilege.' A
tall drink who cared for
her more than the country
cared about being right; who
loved her more than the parents
of the degenerates living in some
unknown collection of poems about the
disenfranchised and American angst.
She was a protest, very wondrous;
a halting of the longest dark,
a breath of fog floating towards
a lonely, very deep pond.
And she was only beginning.
And it was all very exciting.
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 9:56 PM UTC
I'm trying not to get overly excited
I'm on just this side of freak
I've finally gotten the call I've been waiting for
The one that for years has eluded me
There aren't to many farmers out there
That take as much pride in what they grow
That's why Chef Boyardee selected me
To join their team on SpaghettiO's
I've been raising spaghetti for years
Spaghetti straight and long and lean
So I really see no problem
In SpaghettiO transitioning
From the natural growth of spaghetti
To the famed shape of the SpaghettiO
I just need to learn the secret
Of how to roll the perfect hole
As day one arrives in all it's glory
I head out into the fields
Stopping during the day only long enough
For a delicious Italian canned meal
Where I enjoy only the finest ingredients
Straight from the heart of this multicolored can
From the sweet little O's to the...What color is this sauce?! "Orange?!" "Red?!"
And isn't the taste a bit overly bland...
Oh well...
When the day of harvest arrives
I bring in the Italians cause everyone knows
For generations they have perfected
The delicate picking of SpaghettiO's
Who ever thought the growing of spaghetti
Would bring this farmer so much fame
I just received a call from a little known farming cult
Who'd like me to try my hand at the growing of Spam
After my successful go at SpaghettiO's
I'm pretty sure I'm just the man who can
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 8:15 AM UTC
Walls were pressed and hammered
Therapy for workers, curing pangs of comforts
They sat between fleshy webs of knuckles
On lunch break they would pluck pouts of moldy fruit
If only she could hear summer of 98’
Glimmering puddles and sinkable reasons
She could test her strength with Goldfish and a drippy, chocolate cupcake
Matching deserts of skin covering joints young enough to bend
They spat against another, sweating. Tapping
Smoother than honeymooners in a convention center
Frigid or uncontrollable, no one could tell
The breezeway connected teeth, the left chipped in the corner from
A muddy softball game. Their team won 7-2.
Wide enough to squeeze uncooked macaroni shells between
Became the dusky neighborhood game.
Transitioning humans, males most likely, whispered fears between that gap.
He was different. He waited in outside the doors, near the trash bins
With grumpy janitors, muttering, “fuggin’ kids” and things like that.
She loved how ugly they were then.
Her thoughts trailed him, what was left of him, as he paced
Searching for the mug he left there, no
There, holding wet tissue, no
Soggy cupcake liner
Cupcake, shortcake, cake, cake liner
Rainbow or musty brown from 346 degrees Fahrenheit
Baking Therapy Class held in her kitchen
Maybe because she could pound at the dough and it would never fight back
She neglects the finale of rumbling coffee exhale since she knows
He’d never come back. Not here or any party she threw.
But on another hard drive she saved photos of September 20th.
She’ll flip mindlessly through a Cosmopolitan, until she can forget his name
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 2:01 PM UTC
first,
a raccoon wrapped within its own intestine.
the asphalt is its grave; i swerve to miss it.
we shared the same air, maybe even a
common ancestor.
someone moved too fast to care.
its the ones with
fast cars and slow minds
pretty faces and ugly intent
artificial kindness but genuine hate
i'm not your friend
just a similar sense of self
it is
fat priests playing golf
lottery ticket paradises
restaurants
embellished mechanized slaughter
fake laughter and even faker love
shopping mall environmentalists
lexus-driving christians
paychecks, TV, lawn mowing sundays
drink yourself to death
please.
the least among us in control
deprived of the mind
the stench of their egos
and their hypocrisy
the gasoline, the cash, and the forced smiles
as i write people die
children die
i'm like many
the fool who knows
but does nothing
the one who doesn't know
that's the good person
the moral person.
second,
a rant, a ****** off rage
the days are stale, self-actualize, the Earth remains the same
dry and motionless
middle-class frustration, planetary confusion,
the ***** of the Earth,
capsized like dying branches
in a wal-mart state of mind,
stupid slobs, rodent minded social egoists
over-organized, clean freak object fetishists
the evolutionary dollar sign
they bay at the moon, it's made of cheesecake
phase transitioning,
you blood clot, Earthly blood clot,
you don't know art
now there's ancient blood on my hands
smokeless, plantless, Earthless blood
detached from Gaian consciousness
stain on the mind
confused, clogged pathways,
clogged with
self-righteous mind flood
piles of ***** tissue,
waning and waxing
force feed me your ******** please
because i have no idea how to answer
in this cultural blood bath
it is the
end of time
the end of mind.
:aaphi
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 7:01 PM UTC
We have touched so much since December,
steeping teas torrid and arctic ice cubes
a thousand fibers, prince bee his princess
generous blankets papering flu
the drizzle on wedding dawns or departure’s eve
pieces of candy for holiday celebrations
even the ending of a movie –
these are wild fingers that we have
rebellious, juveniles in mind
singing summer stories through knuckles
bodies long slenderized
and they are more than myself
to them, I have no name
but my brain and I are their mother
a well-mannered woman in command
I feed them lotion,
then play in the sand apathetic
whistles papercuts that sting with
mouths as lions tigers bears sharks leaves
asking which hurts most significantly of all we
have loved –
and then again, what enduring does not belong?
The adolescents scoff at each of their
five circadian baths, and I hear cries
for showers because soap makes them crack
but it is in your best interest, I say;
you touch everything that gets in your way
to move is beauty and transitioning more so:
my hands are dancers, pirouetting
on stage to fall harmoniously with
bashes, revelations, words I care to mean
yes, these are what causes the bleed of
my aging hands, and throughout their years,
rings dying them green.
Oct 30, 2012
Oct 30, 2012 at 4:56 PM UTC
1 It's the strangest phase of your life EVER.
2. You're sort of transitioning into an adult but you're still very much a child at heart.
3. You start to take up multiple responsibilities - at school, at home, maybe a part-time job. And sometimes it can be overwhelming for you.
4. Pursuing an education takes a whole lot of work, no matter what type of course you take.
5. It’s also a privilege for many, so be thankful for that.
6. People can be a handful. Some are literal pieces of **** So know your battles; know when to engage and disengage.
7. Friends worth keeping are the ones who let you grow and flourish without having to be there 24/7.
8. Show kindness, no matter the circumstance. (Because kindness always wins!)
9. It's better to just stop thinking of what others think of you.
10. And gosh, stop judging yourself too hard.
11. Overthinking does **** Take that leap of faith once in a while, you'll be fine.
12. You're already amazing, as is.
13. Sometimes the ones you love most are the ones who hurt you most.
14. Sometimes the ones you love most are the ones you hurt most.
15. You will fall. And you will fail. Over and over and over again.
16. And jatuh ha gedebuk gedebang tergolek terlantang into the furthest, deepest pit of the hole.
17. But somehow you’ll find yourself back up again. And somewhere along the way you realise it wasn’t that bad of a fall.
18. Then you realise there are so many things to be grateful for, Alhamdulillah. (and that you were just being a big *** whiny drama queen, exaggerating every little, minuscule thing all along)
19. Also, it’s okay to be sad, miserable and feel so alone once in a while. And boy oh boy you WILL cry like you’ve never cried before.
20. But that doesn’t make you a baby. It makes you stronger. Feelings and emotions are important and they do matter. You matter.
21. Despite it all, you’ll always have God. And that is the best part.
Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 7:47 AM UTC
The magic within a single sunset
The symbolism imbibed
Of a past well completed
Transitioning peacefully, gracefully, beautifully
Into the excitement, curiosity and allure
Of the future and the night.
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 1:51 PM UTC
Heed not what you perceive
Enthroned inside a hopeless dream
You won't see tomorrow
Oh the throes of woe that follow
Order and fear con-
tinual indoctrination conditioning the masses
minds exposed to so-
cietal disease and fiction, damnation
Order through fear per-
petual misinformation
Transitioning to madness
Minds explode to de-
monical seeds of destruction
The eye emblazoned
With a sonic boom
Fate spins her loom
Mushroom clouds in full bloom
They fill the room
Wrought with endless gloom
Spell a certain doom
Now they're entombed
All reduced to statues
No ones excused
Global destruction
Patience, save it, face it
You're under watch
Forbearance, inherent
Ignorance apparent through our existence
Fighting til my death
Masses rising, the
Angels sing-Angels sing
Fighting til my death
Senses fading (I'm done)
Angels sing-Angels sing
Descending into the mind of Chaos-
The semblance fades
Triumphant, turn the tables
Now wake up
Arch-angels blare your trumpets
The end is nigh
Ride pale horse, take me to the edge of celestial shores unknown
Ascending light
Ride pale horse, take me to the edge of celestial shores unknown
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 4:40 AM UTC
I engage in transness
but with no emphasis on transition
I am not one to the other
I am on a continuum that can't be defined
to male or female
if I opened up on what parts define me
you'd be in for a while
my transness is not fixed
my transness is evergrowing and bountiful
it doesn't stop at male or female
I've passed what it means to be trans
I've ran the marathon
and won at the finish line
transness has it's own path
not what cisgender people decide
I live in a revelation of social control
by what's under inclusivity
the performance of transitioning is over
I engage in transness
and I exist with no finish line
Nov 9, 2021
Nov 9, 2021 at 1:11 AM UTC
Two burns, left wrist
Two more burns, left hand
Two fading slits, left ankle
Easier to deal with, to understand
These six scars...
They are the only ones that I have
Well, the only ones in your eyes
The only ones that were deliberate
Deliberate necessities
There is one on the right side
Of my nose too
But it was accidental
Nothing more than a childish
Slip of the foot
"Sorry, it was just a slip of the tongue"
I need you
I need more
Two more, in precision
(a double incision)
One on the right
And one on the left
"No cesarean for me, thanks"
No life coming out of this body
No matter how beautiful
I could have made you
I would have kept you safe
I promise
I won't let them hurt you
They'll understand
**They have to
They have to
They have to**
But that's what I thought before
And yet they still don't
Not today, not quite yet
But they have to
And I've been thinking
And drinking
And smoking
And toking
And I do not know
How far I will go
So cut me open
Take what I don't want
Because I do not want this
Remove my heart
You may as well
While you're in there
It's been aching so badly lately
And this is all that I want right now
They will let me do it
**They have to
They have to
They have to**
They will...
Won't they?
You can not see teardrops
Amongst raindrops
Can not distinguish between
The peaceful and the pained
And I fall, I fall hard
I crash and you feel me, you do
But rain is a friend
Rain is something that I can trust
Something that I can relate to, rely on
*Too quiet to be seen as thunder
Too dull to be seen as lightning
Too transparent to be seen at all
From a distance...*
You get used to rain after a while
We are known for our weather
(Rain rain go away)
Let the sun shine
So that I can become a rainbow
Cut me open and pull out my heart
Offer it to that planet's glorious rays
Look up at me
Not down on me
And tell me that I am beautiful
Tell me that I mean something
To you
That I mean anything
Because I am not mean
I mean
**I love you
I love you
I love you**
I try far too hard
You think that I don't try at all
But it's ******* hard
It's SO ******* hard
And I am trying my best
And I am transgender
I am the she / he / whatever
The it
I do not deserve you
But do I really deserve this?
I know that these are not raindrops
I can taste the salt, slowly rolling
And rolling down
And down my face
My tear-stained face
Please tell me that I am worthy
Please let me do this
Please, please, let me do this...
You have to
YOU HAVE TO
*I'm not alright
I'm not okay
I'm not alright
I'm not okay*
Save me
Fish me out of the ditch
Ditch me halfway through
My transition
LET ME TRANSITION
**You have to
You have to
You have to**
It hurts
It hurts so bad, oh God
And I'm not getting anything in return
So let me pain myself
Until I can breathe again
With a smile on my face
A smile that will not run in the rain
I am running through the rain
Running away from myself
I am falling, as rain falls on me
And I am crying
*I'm not alright
I'm not okay*
So let me do this
You have to.. You have.. You..
You will...
Won't you..?
Because I'm not alright
And I'm not okay
I am transparent, I am transitioning
I am transgender
Whether you like it
Or not.
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 6:52 PM UTC