Category: citizen trans* {project}
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Pond rocks shake under careful girlish hops, beneath a bag stuffed full of an artist’s supply. She almost walks on water, barely tiptoeing the surface. A young girl huffs and jumps the watery divide, landing right in the forest off the shoulder of her village. She says goodbye before exploring the dark. The river swishes…
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What a world if the bullet hadsoared just a little to the right,unabashed and unafraidlike the red brick barreling through Stonewall. Maybe then the heavens wouldn’t weep,echoing the chorus of cries from city streets.Tiny, trembling hands grasping feebly for comfort,fisting into the smooth cotton lapels of a baby blue dress,and a mother clawing at her…
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Sometimes I find her in the mirror unexpectedly.It makes me hold my head up higher,‘Cause she’s the me I strive to see. It’s when my lashes seem a bit more lengthy,Or my mustache seems a little thinnerBefore I add the makeup, unexpectedly. My smile alone’s sufficient, really,Since it’s truest when I embody her,‘Cause she’s the me I…
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I.DysphoriaMultidimensional garmentsDrapes the surface of my bodyBearing down my limbsEntangling every inch and crevice Squeezing and kissing the absence of airLingering the taste of my sweatWithin each kiss and touch contained a voiceTruth and lies mingled into oneAs I attempt to swallow the backlash compliments which the owner dished outNo longer am I able to…
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There is more light bchurricanes cleaned the trees A box truck passes with WE HELPspray painted in blue on the side In line to vote at the placeI drink & see punk bands Rat traps set to poison the blood Hail Satan in dappled sun Nov 5, 2024
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I am Winnicott’s false self´s bitch, psycho-analytically cucked by my true self. Forced to watch my true self being fucked bare in the asshole by having the audacity to exist. The only way to reclaim myself is to fuck my false self in the ass. ———————————————————————————————————— Hold me up on one side and pull me…
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We hold within our handsfabric bright as promised lands—colors of the rainbow’s arc,though time may shift them as the sands.While your hues may not match mine,I yet still see them shine:each stripe and shade tells its truth,and not every line needs bend to rhyme.Is it then strange to bear ourselveslike banners on the shelvesof who…
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I WANT OUT Out of this skin Out of this life I feel the click of too flat teeth And ache for something between them Soft and yielding To rend and tear and split and I know the blood would be sweet Although I do not know how How can you know something will be…
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When you turn the desperate from your doorsWhen you drown out their voicesWhen you snatch even the smallest hard-earned victories from the people who need it mostRemember them. When you claim to hear their cries but never listenWhen you “take back” what never should have been yoursWhen you refuse to dig the truth out of…
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Oh, Pretty Pauly just fourteen when he found you on Grindr a twenty-nine-year old man Receipts tell the sad song Sawblades and medical suppliesHis terrible plot To snuff out your young flame. A month after the police hadn’t put back together the beautiful scattered parts that fit together and made you whole. Why didn’t Lester…