Her Story

her story is painted lillies
dancing in a stilted valley
along a shattered river
with lines along the surface
leaked through dripping
and the valley bleeds
Her story is pain
anger
depression
a silence you forced on her world
How plead you?

Cry Out-Dying

Feel trapped, mourning the dream,
Cut to pieces nothing left to see.
How do you bleed when vein dry?
A empty world filled with icy lies,
I can’t fight when others rather I die.
Every turn I’m wicked, narcissist,
Or I’m hated, othered, unwanted.
I file away the pain, slots of mind,
Empty, cold, no empathy to find.
Makes me worthless, no place for me.
Wake me from this misery,
This corpse tires as king of agony.
When will this damn curse lift,
Where is the supposes gift.
That life is suppose to be
Denied, rejected, forced to mask.
Hide dysphoria, depression, desire to die.
Hide my rage, my existence, wake alone.
I am done fighting on my own.
Please, crying out, desperate not to die.
Save me, I’m drowning in this sea!
Help so I can be who I see inside!

To Cry

Cry for life, for release
To mourn lost hope
Cry to save the soul
From buried pains
Cry to escape
The wretched wastes of mind
Cry to renew and find
Yourself in brighter days
Cry to remember or cry to forget
To erase or to dwell
Cry for all these of for nothing
Other than to cry
Crying can feel horrid
In it’s delightful release
So, cry, just cry

Fighting to Live

Curse the daylight which illuminates
The dark recesses of my mind.
How I long for eternal rest!
My soul unable to escape my self-hate.

Who can stand a man of such despair?
To end the joke that is my life
Would be the most pertinent thing to do!
Close my eyes and die! It’s only fair!

Yet here I am living, as I must!
Fighting the demons plaguing my existence.
Ever lingering, they drown me!
Who is there? Is there a love I can trust?

Yesterday was International Transgender Day of visibility. I posted on my personal facebook about it but nothing on the blog. This poem and another I am working on addresses the emotions I have gone through as I have transitioned. The suicide rate for trans people is much higher than the general population and I am no stranger to the desire to die yet here I am ALIVE! Many never make it so not only do I wish to present myself as a visible trans person I wish to remember those who have passed either from suicide or murdered. Let us celebrate, let us grieve and let us live and love just as everyone else.

Want to help with transition costs? Donate here : The Shadow’s Journey

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Blood Bliss (Nov 1, 2009)

This poem is ancient. I wrote it so long ago that I found it not on facebook or computer files but in a note book near a drawing of my 10 year old daughter as a baby! It’s a sort of depressed creepy fantasy vampire poem. Makes me wonder what else is tucked away in notebooks.

If it rained blood
I knew someone died
If it fell on me
I wouldn’t cry

If it rained wine
I wouldn’t care
Heck that be divine
But it rains blood

It pours from the sky
Makes earth a living hell
Covers every inch
And pools in the drinking well

I lower the bucket
To take in a drink
Absorbing life from horror
I stand at the brink

Of what is good and evil
Yet, like other men
I’ll do what I please
I follow my own command

But I’m not fit for happiness
Destruction is my joy
blood becomes my bliss
I will wake in sorrow again