I am not transitioning to kill her.
I love her, I know her, I am her. She is my entire history and childhood, She'll always be with me. I need to express him and allow his freedom. He is my present and future. He needs to be the exterior expression in the world. The image, of what I look like, needs to match with what I see in the mirror. I am the same person. Regardless of she or he, I am ME.
0 Comments
Don't tell me that you understand,
Don't tell me that you know, Don't tell me that I will survive, how I will surely grow. Don't tell me this is just a phase, That I am truly blessed, That I am chosen for this gender, Apart from all the rest. Don't come at me with answers, That can only come from me, Don't tell me this phase will pass... That I shall soon be filled with answers. Don't stand in biased judgment Of the bombs, I have to untie, Don't tell me how to suffer, And don't tell me how to cry. My life filled with selfishness, My pain is all I see, But I need you, I need your acceptance. Accept me through this time of change, I need someone to hold me, Someone to let me be me, Someone to let me cry, And say, "My friend, I accept your decision." Mama didn't raise a girl wanting to be a boy,
She raised a boy with the wrong parts, That's who she raised. A boy who was born as a girl. A boy wrapped in pink, dressed in pink, grew up in pink. Now this boy is tearing off the pink clothes and wallpapers and blankets and dying them blue like the boy who has been shoved inside the pink body. I'm sorry mama I couldn't be the pink bundle of joy you always prayed for. But this boy wrapped in pink is no longer. I am a boy who will dress in blue, wrap up in blew, grow up more and live in blue. My sweet darkness invades my soul
Loving others and destroying me Becoming the goal of the whole She knocks me to my bloody knees I am clean like the rickety old house She must fulfill those nasty needs I am willing to be the honorable louse She ignores my living seeds She has my honor and love I own her nightly cries till morning comes I would love her like a baby and a dove In her eyes, I stay in the slums Her touch of corruption is never attained My sadness is given no relief The spirit is completely drained My time here will be brief |
AuthorThe writers of Ray-Pec Archives
November 2019
Categories |