As I look into the sky
Studying the bright silvery orb
Waiting as though it is filled with answers I've yet to hear
The leaves rustle like paper
As the wind softly carries on
Caressing the blades of grass with care
The cicadas call softly from far away
I wonder, what do they say
I hear the crickets underground
Calling for a mate
How simple life must be
The stars scattered in the sky
Is someone out there watching too?
The moonlight reflecting off the dancing leaves
Adorned in silver freely given by the sun
Life goes on

Its nights like these
That make me wish to fly
Leave my body here in time
And scatter upwards with my mind
Filling the sky with love
Leaving pain somewhere behind
I long to finally soar
Upwards
And no more

I see you
When you've lost control
When the anger takes over
When your eyes are screaming louder than your words
For help
For understanding
For stability
I see you

I know you
When you don't want to feel like this
When you don't want to hurt anyone
When you don't want to be let down
By your family
By your school
By the people there to help you out
I know you

I know you're hurting
I know you're so confused
I know I don't know how to help you

Its easier to take it out on me
I'll never leave you
Its easier to have a place to let go
I'll always have a safe place for you
Its easier to say you're sorry
I'll never ask you to

I know this is not you
I know this is not your fault
I know this is not you

I love you
I will be here for you
Because
I know you
I see you

December 17th 1998 the doctors say "congratulations, it's a girl"
I do not know what I am

5 years old I am at preschool
I ask "why don't they wear dresses?" pointing to the boys I get an answer that boys don't wear dresses
I don't want to wear dresses, can I be a boy?

Elementary school the boys play football and tag at recess, the girls talk about the cute boys, their hair and their outfits.
I want to play football with the boys but I sit alone on the swings watching the boys.
I wish I were a boy

Middle school the girls are wearing bras and the boys are getting deeper voices. My voice doesn't get deeper but my chest grows, I try to push it back but it doesn't work. My sister want to put makeup on me and have me dress in girly clothes.
But I feel like a boy stuck as a girl

Highschool I learn the word transgender. I cry because I'm not alone. I find out about binders and order one. It comes it the mail, I put it on and put on my most masculine clothes. I already have short hair but I put on a beanie. I look like a boy. I feel like a boy.
I am a boy

The name my mother gave me is not mine. Phoenix sounds right for me. A new beginning, a new life. I will make a boy out of this body.

I'm 15 and scared to tell my family. Over the years in my head I know I am a boy but my body tells me differently. I tell my family that I am a boy. I'm scared and they don't say anything about it. Maybe they think if they don't say anything it will go away. But I am a boy

I tell my teachers and they call me he instead of she. I feel like me. Other students call me a girl but can't they see I am a boy

I go to a store and get called sir, they see me as a boy, I look in the mirror and finally see me.

A boy

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 feel like my poems have just become a list of complaints but how can I find the beauty in this storm?
No church has ever heard as many prayers as that hospital room that night.
Your life hung in the house like a crucifix or an old family photo.
HOW DID YOU EXPECT ME TO GET THROUGH THIS?????
Did you think your absence would make anything better?
It hurts.
It's killing me.
You left in paragraphs. You said I'd be fine.
But when you left you took me with you.
Now my bathroom floor knows more about me than I do.
Now I see you everywhere. In the halls, in your sister's eyes, our coffee shop. oh God that coffee shop.
Your presence still paints the walls there.
The coffee isn't strong enough anymore.
All I taste is you.

Depression, for me, has never been the essence of beauty,
it's about cutting too deep like it's your duty,
and staying up until 4am crying your eyes out
feeling too weak to carry on and wanting to scream and shout.
It's about seeking amnesia from the end of bottles after drinking away the pain;
and sometimes it's about attempting suicide time and time again.

I'm not good

at anything, really,

can't be a leader,

don't know how to scream.

I don't know how to be quite or small

I'm never the prettiest, but that's not all,

I'm not good at being a person.

Sometimes my hands shake

'cause I forget to eat

sometimes I get bad headaches

and getting out of bed's a feat

but I'll tell you one thing I'm good at.

I'm good at digging a little blade into my skin

and pretending that I'm just fine.

I'm good at digging it in 'til I see red,

going out and being sublime.

I'm good at casual excuses,

but I wish SOMEBODY knew,

but I can't tell

because they have fragile hearts

and healthy things in their lives, so few.

(If they find out they will leave).

Hey, wouldn't it be lovely
If we could set down our books
And sing to the sky
Like lunatics in the early dawn

I'm seventeen and I still can't talk
You forgot how to walk
And scraped your knee on the blacktop

I need a haircut;
Something simple that would leave it
Short on the sides and longer on the top
So I could style it back and realize my
Mirror-driven destiny

Hey, wouldn't it be great
If we could walk away and never look back
Like you knew how to walk
And I could still talk

Transgender: denoting or relating to a person whose self-identity does not conform to conventional notions of male or female gender.
My mom told me I shouldn't be trent I shouldn't be him. I shouldn't exist.  I shouldn't take testosterone for the rest of my life. . She told me if I go through with it she could not feel comfortable around me as if I'm Satan himself clawing my way through her child's body taking up the space and making her fear for her life. By the age of five I knew something was different with me Barbie's weren't my friends those imaginative dreams were locked away and grown out of. Age 12 I knew I shouldn't be looking at the girls this way. They way a guy looks at a girl or vice versa but she was like a goddess. I begged myself to stop liking girls that it was nasty because growing up in a house that is deeply embedded in a church they make comments that hurt you because your everything they don't want you to be. Age 13 my mom told me to go after that guy because he could treat me right. I listened and ended up with a cut down the side of my face. Age 16 I came out halfway. Told my parents I was merely bisexual tried to play the feminine part but every time I looked in the mirror I saw the man who hid  in the rocking chair where my heart was suppose to be. He wanted out but I snuffed him out like the flame of a candle. Age 17 I couldn't take living in a lie I proclaimed I am Trent and girls are my weakness. They told me It was merely because I was sexually assaulted and wanted to have power and become the man who took mine away. First month out I cut my hair and changed what I wore my smile grew and confidence boosted this is who I am. Second month out they don't accept it wrapped their hands like vines over my mouth and told me its just a phase keep him in. They didn't hear me when I was in the bathroom tying ace bandage around the ******* upon my body I can't make disappear. When my ribs cracked they scoffed and said what a beautiful girl you are. Age 18 I will move out start college, begin counseling so I can be put on testosterone. Age 19 my voice will deepen my face will look just one step closer to manly. Age 21 I will get my associates degree go to my second college and continue my cure for not being able to be the daughter they wanted. Age 23, I will be shot, *****, brutally attacked because of who I am . my name will be added to the statistics and I will go unremembered. My killer will get off with a free get out of jail card and my body will rot. The body I have grown to love because its mine it is me.  its not fair I have to glue my mouth shut because your not comfortable with who I am. And instead of talking about it like adults they will have killed me for being myself.