The Home of a Wayward Ghost

Non-Binary Trans Fem Creature // 42yrs

[yellow-cat]

(opening my ribcage) and this is where i keep my hot stab of shame

[paper-wounds]

[raelarkpoetry]

writing from the wreckage ✨

tender teeth, soft claws.

poetry • survival magic • zines

more: https://linktr.ee/raelarkpoetry

[sleepsucks]

[jackfrostdoll]

every tgirl you know will become one of three-ish kinds of people. If she's unlucky she'll become multiple kinds of people in a really annoying and bothersome way. they are all different people but they come from the same place: this world fucking hates us and we need to become something that can weather it. she needs to survive and this is how that works

[jackfrostdoll]

the shrinking violet, who will compress herself into any space as long as you'll have her, you won't even notice she's there. she's in the background. she walks like she's floating on air, and you can barely fucking hear her talk. she is an ant in your world, praying that today you will not notice her. when she is smothered by you, wallflower that she is, she will not cry. crying brings attention and attention means she will die. she accepts her death with dignity and grace, and you will not know her as she spoke not.

[jackfrostdoll]

the 8itch. she will rip this world to pieces, and has thistle where a heart should be. she is either a grim survivalist who's voice died 5 years ago, or a loud punk who wants blood slicking her hands and someone's gotta pay for what happened to her. she's accepted that you don't want her, and she doesn't want you either, so don't even bother. her body is a fortress at defcon 1, ready to explode into violence whenever it seems like it'll break bad for her. you can't kill her, but only insofar that she is a kind of living corpse running on hatred rather than actually living. you will not know her, because she knows your type. she'd rather not waste her breath.

[jackfrostdoll]

and third, the maid-knight. do you want something, sir? do you need something from someone? take it from her, sir, because she is a giver. her body is a garden ripe for the picking, and she will have you partake of its bounty. what are friends for if not this? she will never ask anything of you, sir, no sir, that would never do, not when there is more to give. please stay longer, sir, and take more of her. love what she does for you, how useful she can be, how wonderful it is to have her, to need her, feel the chill in the room when she's not there and beckon her to your side. she wants what you want. she needs, what you need. she laughs at your jokes and gasps in stunned awe of your greatness. being around her is a drug and the first, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh hits are free. she'll show off from time to time, but only to entertain. you'll find her an excellent conversationalist but in the quieter moments, when the wine has flowed and we talk of our younger selves, she is always the first to change the topic. when she dies of exhaustion, it is a tragedy. it was preventable. all she needed was to speak up, to take. you thought her as some kind of person beyond people, able to give from a bottomless well. you thought "how does she do it"? and the answer was she was convinced she did not deserve the bounty she grew, so she gave it to you instead. you will not know her, because she was always interested in what you had to say, what you wanted, what you were, where you were going, what excited you. you will learn later, pieced together from scattered accounts of the partygoers that also took her for granted, that she stood by your side convinced that happy endings don't get to happen to girls like her. it was easier to be happy when other people experienced joy than to hope that joy would come to her.

[lilbunnygirlthing]

All the reblogs are arguing about this like its some astrology shit and not some common self-destructive coping strategies. What I havent seen anyone say or ask is how to help her. How do you give a voice to someone that has it but refuses to use it? How do you show you will stay to someone that prefers to pretend she doesn't want you there, and attempts to kick you out at every chance even if it destroys her, because the idea that you will leave on your own is worse? How do you give back to someone that refuses to touch, scared of taking? How do you help the girls that feel trapped in either of these archetypes? Because like it or not, so many are, and they deserve to let go of the destructive ways the world forced upon them. But they shouldn't do so alone. So how do you help?

[haunting-petrichor]

For better or worse I'm 200% the thistle hearted bitch. But that's what therapy is for.

Of all the things on my transition bingo card, I did not expect to get "transition from the most shy, meek, depressed guy ever to the most bitter, burnt out, grouch ready to fight to death anyone that pulls me from my disassociative state transneutral".

[upandoutcomic]

body stuff i try not to think too hard about

[pavizi]

april fools suck my cockkkk worst holiday forever and ever. ohhh i lied about something and you got EXCITED look at this moron. i hate it. hell on autistic people holiday .

[haunting-petrichor]

Happy trans day of visibility to all the trans people who are;

Agendered

Non binary

Gendernull

Genderfluid

Transneutral

Multigender

Genderpunk

Demigendered

You are all important members of the trans community, and my heart goes out to you all. You all deserve just as much love, acceptance, and visibility as everyone else.

🩵🩷🤍

[yellow-cat]

google search how to live with a thought that wont go away

google search how to be okay about what happened

google search when will i stop being angry

google search its always there in the back of my mind

[skelotom]

[catchymemes]

[raelarkpoetry]

writing from the wreckage ✨

tender teeth, soft claws.

poetry • survival magic • zines

more: https://linktr.ee/raelarkpoetry

[paper-wounds]

Florence Welch

[haunting-petrichor]

The sun peaks through my bedroom window, casting a soft golden glow across my room. The birds are already up singing and flitting about outside. It's a beautiful brand new day, and it's time to get up.

It's time to get up.

Time to get up.

get up

Get up

Get Up!

Please get up!

Why can't I move?

What is wrong with me?

My bones have been replaced with shards of jagged iron.

I scream as my body suddenly moves against my will.

I am lost in an infinity of agony.

Blood soaks my bedding

My jagged bones tear my flesh as I rise to sitting.

My eyes are gaping wounds streaming bloody tears.

My heart is an endless black abyss.

I try to scream again.

My screams are lost to the void leaking from my heart.

My wretched flesh hangs limp and tattered on my unnatural frame.

Something inside me growls and I stand.

As my feet touch the cold floor I feel a horrible force building in my body.

I must stretch, flesh rending further, long since exsanginated.

I am stretched to my limit.

I keep stretching.

Limbs lengthen and crack.

Spines jut from my arched back.

I scream again.

Countless violent maws full of jagged teeth split my flesh.

My scream fades into a yawn as I finish stretching.

My bones settle into less brutal lengths and shapes, and my flesh regrows like a layer of mold.

I rub the sleep from my eyes and I look at the bloody mess I have made.

But there is time for that later.

Right now I could really use a coffee.

[pavizi]

adventure time comic

[haunting-petrichor]

This is so sadly sweet, poor Fynn. I can relate to putting the ideas from my initial egg crack in my memory vault.

[haunting-petrichor]

I finally found the energy to finish a short story I started a month ago. It's an odd piece of poetic fantasy fiction about personal transformation.

~~ A gentle creature swims with me in the lake of quiet wonders ~~

As the sun sets on the world,

A world in which I don’t belong.

I step carefully along a forest path,

To a place outside of time and mind.

As the day gives way to night,

And as the moon rises overhead,

It’s wan light filters down through the trees,

And I feel a chill run through me.

A version of me existed once that could bare the weight of my incongruous nature,

But time and tribulation has not looked kindly on my body.

I was made to bury that version of me long ago,

And now make my way as a frail ghost,

The walking wounded,

Forlorn and faded.

I am pulled from bitter reverie when at last I push past dense brush,

And at last reach the waters edge.

Haunting celestial light dances across still water,

A hidden sanctuary contained within a forgotten glade.

The energy of the place hangs heavy in the air,

Almost overwhelming my senses as it roars without voice or sound.

And for a moment I feel weak.

Do I dare?

Do I dare not?

My hesitation lasts for an infinity encased within a moment,

But my heart starts to stir,

Calling out.

It knows where I have brought it,

And it is ready,

I am ready.

With neither care nor ceremony I undress,

Clothes discarded like an old, unwanted husk.

I catch a glimpse of my form in the water,

But resist the impulse to recoil.

Even when young this ill fitting form never suited me,

But here in this place I would at last be set free.

As I stand bare I should be so deathly cold,

But in this place,

This precious haunting place,

There is a warmth that feeds my soul and warms my bones.

One foot in the water,

I test my fortitude.

Mud between my toes sends a thrill through me,

But I resist the urge to hurry.

As ever I must dance the dance,

Sing the songs who have no way left to be sung.

A second foot in and I’m ankle deep,

The thrill steadies to a hum.

I open my mouth and call out in song,

No words,

Guttural cries,

Sylvan syllables,

Whispered wonders.

I am a lone being at the edge of the real,

Calling out for help in the only way I have left.

In a trance,

My mind outside my body,

I move deeper still,

Wading out into welcoming water.

Something internal lays a palm against my chest and I stop,

Pulled from the trance.

I’m standing chest deep in the water,

Toes having found the drop-off on their own.

One more step and I will be out over open water,

Deep beyond reconning,

Black like ink,

Ripples visible only by moonlight.

I gently run my hands across the surface of the water,

Searching for a sign to begin.

And then at the very edge of perception I feel her,

Something stirs in the depths.

My heart elates,

As she too has been waiting.

In one fluid motion I lower my head and push off with my feet.

Moon light above,

And dark waters below.

And I am not afraid.

I swim inexpertly,

A creature of dry land not made for grace beyond the shore.

It does not matter,

She will teach me,

And in this way I will forever be changed.

I stay close to the surface as I make my way out from the water’s edge.

I can not breath as she breaths,

But I will learn.

My worn body falters as I reach the point of no return,

But this deep place holds no greater threat than those I now leave behind.

I roll onto my back and float,

Arms out stretched,

Fingers splayed.

Deep breath in,

Deep breath out.

I can feel the motion of her approach echoing through the water.

A colossal shape moving with other worldly finesse.

The water barely ripples as I sense her.

I close my eyes.

She dares not to break the surface,

Not in this place.

Instead I feel the brush of long silky fins across my skin,

And see at the edges of my vision a shimmer and glow through the water.

I lower a hand below the surface,

Reached out for a connection.

She responds with a grasp along my arm,

A powerful embrace with immense care,

Reassuring me,

Asking if it is time.

In response I take a deep breath and lower my head below the water,

And fight the urge to tense with anticipation.

She rolls in the water just below me,

Pressing her body against my back.

I do not fight as she grips me tight,

And then we dive.

She pulls us down into the umbral depths,

Though in this place I have no sight to judge distance.

I try to open my eyes but the water stings

And the speed of our dissent disorients me.

She sings to me in her deep resonant tones,

A sensation that is felt through her chest as much as heard.

I do not yet know her words,

But I understand the tone and relax.

With a passing thought I realise it has been a while since I last drew breath.

Already I am being remade in her image.

Her swimming starts to slow,

And her movements grow playful and circuitous.

We dance together in a place far outside of any common ken,

And I can feel that we have at last transgressed beyond the the borders of nature,

Into a world that belongs to her.

I can not resist and open my eyes,

And with inhuman vision I peer into her realm.

The water is alive with the motion and glow of countless otherworldly creatures,

All joining in the dance of their empress.

Large and small,

Elegant and elaborate,

Plain and strange,

They all thrill at her return.

A school of sea slugs move in close,

Curious of the new presence in their home.

Their bodies vibrant and luminous in the dark water,

Their cerata tickle my skin as they brush past.

I can see the waters surface above,

Striking and beautiful as ethereal lights cast down through the ripples and wakes.

I know instinctively that this is not a window into the mundane world I left behind.

These are the waters of a distance and sacred land,

An oasis,

Her oasis.

She slows to a stop a short distance from the surface,

And releases her hold on my body.

As I do my best to maneuver in the unfamiliar aquatic environment,

She adjusts her serpentine body,

And moves her head to face me.

Before now I had only seen mere glimpses of her in dreams,

As she reached out to guide me.

Now I behold her in all her glory and splendor,

Pearlescent scales over powerful muscles,

Luminous and silken frills and fins cascade along her serpentine form.

In her presence I am small,

Barely larger than her head.

But her presence only stirs a deep and burning joy.

She moves in close,

Resting her snout against my chest.

An indescribable sensation begins to fill,

Flooding through my body from our point of contact.

Every cell in my body thrums,

And I feel like I may burst as she fills me with light.

I do not care.

If this is to be the end of me,

Then I would die happy and full of warmth.

My senses leave me as my body changes.

I could not tell you if it was the work of moments,

Or if she held me there for aeons as she rewrote my form.

As my mind drifts I say goodbye to what I was,

To a form and a world that I was not meant for.

I do not know how the Lady of the Deep found me,

Perhaps it was my cries of deep and unabating pain.

How I would cry even when I didn’t know why,

How the water would call me,

But also terrify me to my core.

As tears begin to form anew,

I feel the movement of her colossal form,

And open new eyes for the very first time,

In a place that finally feels like home.

[korppipoika]

Ei ihan/Not quite

You know when you are surrounded by creatures very much like you but still... Still not quite fitting, nor quite feeling like everyone else?