Skin begins to crawl while seeing this mess
Binding my chest and trying to rest

I don’t see myself

Living in this body is betrayal
Everything is wrong feeling unwell

I don’t see myself

Looking down is not much better
Body is making it hard to get it together

I don’t see myself

Mind is screaming to give up
Living life like this hurts too much

I don’t see myself

Sometimes I forget what it's like,
to not feel so alone.
To have someone in my life,
I could call my own.

I remember what it was like,
before everything was so complicated.
Where I knew where I stood,
and how I could be satiated.

But I don't know anymore,
my gender is a **** fest.
I could like someone,
but I couldn't give them my best.

So I put distance,
between myself and others.
I can't trust my dad,
to see me as anything but one of the brothers.

I did everything I could,
to get away from my ****.
Who knew the snake would find me,
or that I would get bit.

So now I cry,
on a hard hospital bed.
And wonder if it's not worth,
putting some lead in my head.

im soft right now

and part of me wonders

will you love me when im no longer soft

when my muscles shift and my hips get bony

will you tell me to put on a few pounds

put some meat on my bones

when im no longer a soprano or even an alto

will you tell me my voice is too loud and booming

that i should speak softly

when hair blankets my body like moss on a stone

will you tell me my kisses hurt you

that if i dont shave every day its too itchy to bear

will my body be the end of us

i hope not



because under enough blankets my hips wont poke you

and after enough lullabies everything feels quiet

and with enough beard oil anything is soft enough to kiss

You are quick to question but
Occupy cisheteronormativity mindlessly
Unprepared for queer identities

Assuming I lack knowing of myself
Reshuffling the same deck of cards
Engaging in a play of poker with hatred

Subjected to foul treatment
The words you spat
Unsolicited and unflattering
Chasing my mind endlessly
Kidnapping me hostage

I have been coated in sweltering biohazards
Nevermore to find protection and healing

To see another day seems impossible
If my own blood casts me away
Malevolence becoming motherly
Eliminating my mental health
,

Its those who think they are greater
Trailblazing a performative show
Sabotaging an already discriminated space

To go another day with your words
Itching down into my skin
****** becoming friendly
Envisioning how I'd feel left alone


From the moment you open your mouth
Orchestrating emotions like a ballad
Reconsolidating the toxic bond with binary

Can't seem to wake you up
Having to constantly do the work for you
And what am I left with
Naive justification and selfish excuses
Gravitate your energy into doing better
Exploitation is your entertainment

What can I do
If my birthday suit
Is inside out and backwards?

What can I say
If every day
I'm forced to be an actor?

Why should I be
Where they'd rather see
Me hanging from a rafter?

How can I live
And just forgive
The ones who call me *******?

Am I preordained
To wear this chain
Keep living like a captor?

Where should I flee
If all I see
Is one endless tragic chapter?

Mother wept for weeks when you died.
Her cries rang throughout the house
as if she had put a microphone up to her mouth.
She demanded to know why I killed her daughter.
Where was the daughter who wore floral skirts to spin around in?
Where was the daughter who wore shimmering gold makeup as a way to be pretty?
Where was the daughter that begged for her hair braided like Katniss every morning?
She demanded answers but I don’t know if you actually ever existed.

I know you tried to exist.
I know you kept trying to stop me from ‘taking your place’
by devouring every feminine stereotype you could find.
I couldn’t live repressed under emotions you refused to address.
I couldn’t survive as you tried every title besides the correct one.
I couldn’t stand the sight of you in the mirror or photos
I still can’t.

Maybe I did **** you as I cut my hair shorter than you wanted.
I killed you by throwing out all your favorite clothing items.
I killed you by no longer letting you be the ideal daughter.
I killed you just like I started to **** our family.
All it took was a simple letter saying I wasn’t a girl, but instead a boy.
The silent treatment felt more like a punishment for wanting to be me.
I was cut off while I still lived in the same house as them.
The only thing is that I would **** you again,
but only if I got to see you crumble away every time.

Bedroom’s painted fisherman’s blue

There’s a cut out of Hayden Panettiere naked in a pink bikini with a hula-hoop on the back of the door

Copies of British Vogue desperately hidden underneath the bed accompanying an empty bottle of Glen’s

Manchester United duvet cover and matching pillows to boot

The bin’s filled with pre-packed home-made lunches from the last six months

Wardrobes a collection of ill fitting blue jeans bought for me by grandmother and football jerseys for teams that I’ve never even heard of, yet let alone see play a single game

Uniform ironed and sitting out ready for school on Monday at 8am sharp

***** clothes cover mostly all the floor smelling of Lynx’s finest even though there’s an empty laundry basket just waiting in the corner to be used

Inside one of the woolen blazer’s (that is way too big for me) pockets a single unopened ****** and an AES 256-bit encrypted USB stick

An old PlayStation 2, with a single controller; games including FIFA years through 2004 to now, Tom Clancy’s Splinter Cell, and GTA.

Blood red shoplifted lipstick that’s now melted hidden in the little secret compartment at the back, meant for network expansion.

Artemis Fowl, Alex Rider, and Harry Potter all adorn the bookcase

Physics, Maths, and IT textbooks remain firmly closed on the desk in addition to a smashed phone from me and Daddy’s last “physical altercation”

Lady Gaga’s “I Like it Rough” is playing in the background on repeat…

Tears dried on your caramel cheeks
Wondering why there’s so much to be scared of
Thinking about escaping to a better place

Where you do not feel like a burden
Where you had not been a mistake
Where you are not scared of being condemned

But you already had to accept
There’s no where to go and no one to turn to

You have family as reliable as a bike with a broken chain
Friends who are scared of you
And a brain that has not yet developed

Through the terrifying thoughts
Horrible memories
And flat out traumatizing events

You are still fighting

I know most day hurt being in the wrong body
I know most days you just wish you’d been born right

I know that one day you’ll be getting closer
To being able to present how you want

I know you’re scared

But there’s something I need to tell you
Something I need you to trust
Dry your cheeks and listen to me

you are now loved
and
you will be okay

there is nothing wrong with who you are
you’re allowed to be you
we are two months on testosterone and becoming the man we’ve always knew we were

I’m so proud of you