Summary Of A Depressed Fag @sweetboysig - Tumblr Blog

An Introduction

Name: Sigil Alistair

Age: 21

Sexuality: Gay

Canadian.————————————————————————Transgender Ftm

T💉 July 25, 2022.

Top Surgery 🔪 January 21st 2023

Main Pronouns: He/It

Other pronouns: Star/Bat/Crow/Bug/Pup/Fizz————————————————————————AuDHD, Mentally ill, Chronically ill.————————————————————————⚠️DNI⚠️ Under 18, racist, sexist, misogynistic, transphobic, homophobic, conservative, against neopronouns/xenopronouns, transmed, ableist, pro-ana/thinspo blogs, pro self harm blogs. Generally, just don’t be a dick.

Hey I’m Sig, I kinda just realized I’ve on here since I was like 17 and have literally never introduced myself so here’s an introduction.

I love music, from any genre really, but especially emo, grunge, rock, punk, metal, pop-punk, and alternative.

I’m an artist and enjoy lots of mediums, but mainly I draw a lot. I am hoping to go into tattooing.

I mostly post photos, vents, and poetry on this blog, but may switch it up every once in a while and post something random.

My posts generally don’t get a lot of traction, so I’m not expecting many people to see this. But hey if you do and you think I’m cool, dm me. Perhaps we can be friends :)💜

no one understands how bad it hurts to be thrown away like you never meant anything at all..

I wanna make out with someone so bad right now

Our body pressed up against eachother

Our lips colliding feverishly, an unquenchable hunger

Moving to the beat of our heartbeats

Skin touching skin

Man I’m touch starved

#trans guy #emo boy #trans boy #trans ftm #transgender #trans #trans t4t #trans mlm #make out #kiss #gay kiss #gay ftm #gay crush #gay #lgbtq+#lowkey horny #kiss me

I choked back your cherry love bomb.

It tasted like heaven,

But it burned like hell.

Cyanide daydreams turned to bitter, love-sick dizzy spells,

And I fell,

I fell for it all.

For your lies as rose-coloured, heart-shaped glasses blurred my vision, and hid your blood red truths

I feel for you. And it burns like whiskey in the wound.

But the fire tastes like you.

And the more you pull away, the more I feel my veins, they slide out of my body like worms as you rip them from their life source, cut the big red ribbon and watch the light flood out of my eyes with no remorse

Drown me in your salt, kill me with your stare I don’t care, but please don’t leave my body there, I’m not prepared to face the sunlights stinging glare

I’m hungover from your love,

My heads pounding, and I’m shivering and I feel like throwing up,

Going through this withdrawal just as if you were a drug

And in a way,

You kind of were.

Because I was addicted to the red. Addicted to the pain. Addicted to the venom coursing through my veins.

It turned the world the most brilliant shade of red.

Red like the blood that drips and oozes off of my necrotic body, red like the searing pain in my chest, red like a rose against freshly fallen snow.

I choked back your cherry love bomb.

It tasted like cough syrup.

But it didn’t heal me.

It poisoned me with lies, and then hit me with the truth.

I was never good enough for you.

But the memory of our love,

Is bitter sweet and glowing red

Like cherries..

#old car #stairs #photography #aesthetic #pretty #cool #nighttime #trans guy #emo boy #trans boy #trans ftm #transgender #trans #lgbtq+#queer artist #old cars #car #cars #antique

I just want a pretty boy.

A boy with dew in his hair and light in his eyes bathed in the soft colourful hue of stardust,

A boy who smells of rain and of smoke, of herb and of rum, the aroma of him could cling to any coat and I would adore it

A boy who dances under the moonlit sky and sleeps in the tallest trees, his body an array of perfect imperfections that tell the story of him, a boy made from honey and silk, from bullets, and blades, and crystals and silt, the sands in his hourglass merely the ashes of an ever burning violet flame, the beating heart of starlit soul

I need a boy who like me has a barbed wire soul, a haunted house mind, and a past dark as coal, because perhaps then he might understand why I tremble and flinch at the raise of a hand

A boy who’s soul is like mine, a bat in a cage told “without feathers, a bird cannot fly” with wounds on his chest held together with twine, violet blood mixing with mine.

And his tongue burns like whiskey and vodka and gin, a brighter new world to lose myself in, much the same as his eyes like the richest of pools, vast but not empty, brisk but not cool.

I just want to be in love again, and find these features in a new boy or perhaps 2 in the end.

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In non-poetic terms I’m lonely and touch starved and queer.