post ● pluvia

a twenty-something transfem screams softly into the void.

[postpluvia]

bus

i would gladly

miss the bus

a thousand times

if it meant

i got to sit here with you

for a little while

longer

[postpluvia]

speak

every recording feels like someone else answering for me

but i keep trying to change

the way i speak.

higher.

softer!

fried?

none of it matters.

i hate my voice

because it still sounds

like me

[postpluvia]

voice

don’t borrow my voice

just to argue with it-

don’t rewrite

my own words

don’t tell me

what i really meant

the strangest people

are always convinced

they’ve spent more time

inside your head

than you have.

[postpluvia]

regret

there’s a quiet stain

pooling at the bottom

of my chest

it climbs

behind my ribs

it fills the space

between my lungs

it catches

in my throat

i never notice it moving

only that one day

everything looks darker

sometimes

i wonder

how much of me

is still underneath

all of this regret

sometimes

i swear if i opened my mouth

it would spill out instead of words

taking up the air

until there’s nothing left

of me to choke on

[postpluvia]

black

it doesn’t arrive

it’s already there

waiting for the room

to get quiet enough

then all at once

it opens-

my chest caves in

like something enormous

has remembered

where i live

it’s black.

not the color

the feeling

thick enough

to swallow sound

to make every memory

feel like it belonged

to somebody else

i sit perfectly still

even breathing

feels like i’m admitting

i’ll wake up tomorrow

and do this again.

i keep asking

how many more times

a person can survive

the exact same loneliness

before they stop

coming back the same

sometimes the thought

of another life

doesn’t sound hopeful

it just sounds far away from this one.

[postpluvia]

rehearsing

some mornings

i wake up sick

i make coffee

i wait

eventually, it passes.

but then i catch myself wishing

i’d ever had a reason

to buy myself a pregnancy test

my body

keeps rehearsing things

it was never

going to perform.

[postpluvia]

dream

last night i picked my son up from school.

we stopped for ice cream

on the way home

i don’t remember

what we talked about

but i remember thinking-

he’s getting so big.

i held him as a newborn.

he used to fall asleep on the couch before i could carry him

to bed.

and none of it felt

like a dream

it felt

like remembering my life.

so i’ve been trying

all day to figure out

how something that never happened

can feel so familiar

[postpluvia]

birthday

i buy myself dinner

the receipt reminds me

it’s my birthday.

i laugh like i’d forgotten

on purpose

i moved here

thinking distance

might change something.

a new city

a new apartment

another chance

to become the person

i kept imagining.

instead

the walls learned my name

before anyone else did.

i keep thinking

my life should feel

more settled by now-

more lived in

more like something

i’d want to stay inside.

part of me believes

i deserve that.

the rest of me

isn’t really sure

[postpluvia]

afternoon

i keep trying new places.

a different café,

a different shop,

a different way

to spend the afternoon.

i thought

i was looking

for somewhere new.

i wasn’t-

i was looking

for another afternoon

to lose

with you.

i’m starting to run out

of things to try.

[postpluvia]

without

one day the grocery store will still be open.

someone will miss

their exit.

someone else

will laugh so hard

they forget

what was funny.

the world has always known how to go on without me.

i think i am ok with that.

[postpluvia]

windows

a song i haven’t heard in years

hits me like a freight train

and suddenly-

sunlight through open windows

the hum of an ordinary afternoon

distant chatter from the other room

nothing important

was happening.

but i think

that’s what i miss

the kind of day

you never realize

you’re going to spend years

trying to get back.

[postpluvia]

dark

the horizon burns itself quiet

one color at a time

i’ve seen this a thousand times before

but all at once

it feels less like the sun is leaving

and more like it’s taking something with it

i wish

i’d said more.

before everything

started getting dark

[postpluvia]

child

i'm right here.

i've been here the whole time.

the slow nods at work

you think i don't run this place already?

the rage of having to sit there and play the idiot

just to let you feel like you're better than me

you lower their voice for things i already know

like you’re leaking state secrets-

as if it’s not written across your face.

you’re either stupid or careless.

the constant insult of you handing me basic reality like a prize.

why do you talk down to me like i am brand new?

i know!

i know!

i know!

i sit there swallowing the heat screaming it into the back of my teeth

until my throat burns

wondering when i became

everyone's favorite child.

[postpluvia]

taste

my stomach

and the mirror

have been arguing

for so long

everyone else’s answers

leave a bad taste.

i leave the table

just as empty

and every mirror

finds another way

to make me heavier

[postpluvia]

lesson

i know

you don’t have to keep

proving it

i’ve been paying attention

please

let one thing

stay gentle

without turning into

another reminder

i already learned

this lesson

stop making me

learn it again

[postpluvia]

wanted

i think about it

more than i should

what it feels like

to be wanted

i look in the mirror and think

i could be a girlfriend

i could be good at it!

my heart sinks-

they have to like girls

they have to like girls like me

they have to like me

so i wear my pretty clothes

with nowhere to go

the version of me

who gets to be wanted

just sits here in the dark.

[postpluvia]

ordinary

i’m a girl failure

in the most ordinary way

i buy clothes

for versions of me

that never leave the house

i’ve tried so hard

to become someone

who looks effortless

people think

i’ve given up

i don’t know

how to explain

that trying

became the only thing

i got good at