Bodies.
Two together
Sliding,
Slipping
And slapping
Together.
Moans and cries
As purity dies.
As ****** thoughts
Are given life and energy.

As she arches her back,
Clawing his skin
Loving this sin.
As he goes deep
And she screams his name
Begging more
And his thighs, pleasantly sore
As sweat makes them slick

And moans and cries
And you feel so high

Only ***
Skin on skin
A man and a woman,
Or a woman and a woman
A man and a man
Trans and Genderflexible

Love is love however we
Want to see

And I am a follower of God
While i may not partake
I do not hate
Please understand,

We don't know how to say
That they don't think it's right.
But it's your life.

Forgive my people
For giving you anger
When they should have given love

I walk the halls and glance at everyone I see,
The girls who are hurrying to the bathroom to fix their makeup,
And the boys who check them out as they walk by.

Is there anyone else here who can't go to the bathroom, because I swear to God just the thought of it gives me a small panic attack.
Is there anyone else here who looks down and is disappointed everyday because I am small, chesty and my face is far too round.

I never check out the girls, nor do I run to the bathroom to fix myself,
I walk and look at how much I wish I was one of the guys,
Flat chested, tall, lean and not having to wake up 5 extra minutes to put on a binder.
Never hating that their voice along with their round face will have others calling them "She" for their whole life.

Never will they come home with aching ribs,
and feel the stab of being misgendered.
Never will they be told "but you still look like a girl,"
Even though you are trying so hard that you feel your mind wearing thin.
Why can't I just be what they want me to be?

I'm suppose to be mad at you. I am furious with you. I'm angry that every time I try to remember the good all i do is remember the bad. When I look in the mirror all I see is you standing behind me and its becoming a trip like I took acid but ive never even touched the **** things..

You have become the punchline to every joke my parents don't refrain from telling. The punchline has them in fits of laughter and I don't think they saw how it was like I was sucker punched in the gut with the breath knocked right out of me

It took me six months to realize you were no good for me, but the damage had already set in like the death from a funeral that was never held for who i was.
I bet you don't even realize that, and I'm not saying I'm in love with you anymore I'm just saying if you were here in front of me I don't know if i'd fall to the ground and hope to god I don't show you how badly I cant get over what you did. Or if id simply ask you for a hug because after all in this morbid way I'm still in love with you. Its too cliche to say I gave you pieces of me that I ache to gain back. You see I never told anyone
..and maybe thats my issue.
I am a walking contradiction as I tell others to be strong and to not go back but I….If I was drunk and you somehow appeared like every memory somehow shows up like that unwanted pregnancy you thought I had. I don't know if id fall right into your arms to beg for the old us back.

Rug burns and bruises, I learned no was not a standing ovation for my security as a person but an invite for the pressure of an unclean carpet to be dragged across my body. I can still feel the digging of your jeans in my back. Its like you never really left.

This town has so many painful memories that I think it's time to get the uhaul take all the memories, take the pain and ill go somewhere I cant see you everywhere I turn. No amount of therapy can ever make me function like an actual human being.


Do you not understand that now every time the hurt comes back I have to apologize to her because I can't explain that what you did, what you continuously do is something more than words explain. That maybe she fell i love with someone who is unfixable.

The bruises are gone but the memories remain.

His eyes were not the reminder of a once well known friend they were the reminder that I only got three hours of sleep last night and there's a test on something I couldn't wrap my brain around because I was too busy searching how to tie a noose on a screen to bright for my tired eyes. I never knew he'd show up unexpectedly at dinner and I could almost see my mothers nose crinkle in disgust either from the stench of my lack of motivation or simply the smell of death. He had this way of holding himself. Hands shaking like a ticking time bomb or way to ready to jump to the next thing to ease the situation.
To ease the situation.
Ease the situation.
The smile carved as big as the jokers planted on a pale face and sunken eyes.
he had bags under his eyes.
bags under his eyes
Under his eyes.
Grimacing under growing bruises and bones that creaked with every movement because he is like an old house. Fun to look at and imagine what it was like in its glory days but spiderwebs and dust seem to be a better turn off than the word no.
No one told them that depression is a battle ground that theyd have to pick up their long lost child from.