Category: citizen trans* {project}
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I’ve died like this before Holding my own head subaqueous It doesn’t count if I only think about thinking about it Emotional mise en abyme The thoughts are barely my own I am allergic to my own body
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Don’t trust any others. We trust only Trump. The others are liars, we trust only Trump. Just Trump knows the truth, only Trump knows all secrets. You can be too careful. Yes, your kindness is needless. Beatitudes’ weakness, it’s weakness to care. It’s weakness to give, and it’s weakness to share. You scare us. Don’t…
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today I watched the sunpaint gold and mauve cloudswith rays that pierced a crownthrough the rippled changing sky we are water and matter and patterns, mutable and unmuzzled free to bescattered breadcrumb building blocksthat we can make become ways I am more animal than human: I like to let my body do what it doesuse my…
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Who you are is not the choices you make Who you are is the choices you make ad infinitum I chose to keep breathing when I didn’t want to You are not your mistakes You are your routines, no matter how small The rhythm of your coffeepot and morning cigarette The strangers you avoid eye…
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I’m scared (but less than last time, right?)I’m angry (but less than last time, right?)I’m hopeless (but less than last time, right?) What grows in the space betweenNumbness and optimism? Does a future take rootIn the stone of my despair?
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My friend was right. The old guy at the counterwas almost right. But I don’t care aboutthe price of eggs. I live so close I leave topee in my apartment. Who buys eggs? Ihave enough of my own in storage. I bakecinnamon rolls with eggs. Put one in awaffle. But water—I drink it, excrete it,need…
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FIRST BLOODY SHOT IN AGES. EVERYTWO WEEKS I STICK A NEEDLEIN MY LEG AND HOPE I DON’TFEEL IT. TODAY I STICKIT IN HALFWAY AND FEELAN INTERNAL TWITCH. I THINKABOUT CHICKENING OUT ANDPUSHING THE PLUNGER, HALF IN.I THINK ABOUT THE KIDS. ITHINK ABOUT THE KID I USEDTO BE. I STICK THE FUCKING NEEDLEALL THE WAY IN…
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Bones are party clothes,and it’s nearing the end of the night. they’ve worn me down slowly– grinding,itchy and tight: making the flesh of my heelshurt, feel like i’ve got these hot, heavycoals that’re taking their master’s role–becoming the ones who dig and taketo make their way through all my muscles& all the way down to…
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Silence is the way they like us.It’s the way they keep us down, and below,Looking unlike ourselves and up at them.Every breath shallow and undisturbed.Not an action, but a state of being—Silence instead of just quiet. so when Death soaks our history,Every story remains untold.And still they tell us, too loud, flamboyant,Terrorizing their colorless minds.Hurt…
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in the presence of my homei don’t guide many visitorsmostly because as lonely as i ami like my peace & in dark cold nightsi am found tossing & turningbut what could createthe oceans i could swim only bringsweak streams i am tiredof thesesoulless no passion strangers i am anautistic gay trans man how is it…