Not speaking to me
deep-set anger does strange things
unforgiveness reigns
and base thoughts are still awhirl
til I give myself a break.
.
D W Eldred
seen from Congo - Brazzaville

seen from United States
seen from Georgia

seen from United States
seen from China

seen from United States

seen from Russia

seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Ukraine

seen from Slovakia
seen from Russia

seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Indonesia
seen from United States
seen from China

seen from South Africa
seen from Netherlands

seen from United States
Not speaking to me
deep-set anger does strange things
unforgiveness reigns
and base thoughts are still awhirl
til I give myself a break.
.
D W Eldred
Fe/male
I hate it—
this feminine nature,
this thing I’m told
to love, to own,
to celebrate in silk and softness—
but all it brings is war inside my bones.
No—
I don’t want to be anything else.
But I still want to rip it off,
this cursed body that made me female.
Some say it means iron man—
I say it means long suffering.
I am the storm behind a sweet face,
the mood that snaps,
the eyes that blaze,
the mouth that bites itself in shame—
and here I am.
Fe. Male.
A word that burns my throat
and drips like acid from my tongue.
I wish I could change—
but change to what?
A boy? A man?
That doesn’t fit.
That was never the fix.
And still, I can’t stomach what I am.
I don’t want them.
Not men. Not women.
Not anyone.
Gender is a joke with no punchline.
Sex? A dead word.
Love? A foreign language,
every syllable harsh and unpronounceable.
Touch feels like betrayal,
and being seen
is a kind of violence.
So here I am—
caught between meaning and meaninglessness.
A gendered ghost
haunting my own reflection.
Fuck you, universe.
You're such a funny bitch.
I hate me.
But I wrote me.
And maybe that means
I’m still here.
Me @myself because nobody else will fucken do it: you're so full of SHIT Dominic
Brain went numb..
Why do I always get stressed to hell over the little things. GOD DAMN IT ALL!!!!
Someone: wow you're kin with Steve Rogers? That's awesome! So cool! At least you don't have to worry about a lot of the pain that comes with being kin with a lot of the other Marvel characters. You're kin with such a great guy!
Me: *actually on the verge of guilty tears 24/7* yeah. Great guy. Nothing to worry about on this end.
So angry. (a rant to myself).
As a teen girl, I was forever criticizing my weight. I’d cover up in hoodies and t-shirts 3 times too big for me, if I wore anything too tight fitting I’d feel like I was bulging out of it. I’d often cry myself to sleep over how “fat” or “huge” I felt. I’d stare in the mirror and compare myself to my best friends. They were all tiny, skinny and petite. Then there was me. Huge arse, podgey stomach, flabby arms...
Looking back at pictures now. (not that there are many full body pictures of me due to the above). Wow. I wasn’t fat. I couldn’t even qualify as chubby in my eyes now. Infact, looking back, I had a great body. Yes, my butt was big (there is no denying that, trust me.) but it suited me. I wasn’t “big”, I was curvy. And it suited me. If I was going to cry about anything back then it should have been over the state of my hair. You were a size 10 for God sake, SAM! And you looked DAMN good.
And I’m SO angry with myself because I REFUSED to let myself feel girly or beautiful because I just felt like because I was this fat, horrible flabby thing that I didn’t deserve to wear pretty dresses or even make my hair look nice. Because I let myself be engulfed by the fact that my friends were all skinnier than me, so that made me fat. I couldn’t be just “average” size like I was, no, it meant I was a whale out of water in my eyes.
I wish I could say; “why didn’t anybody tell me that I wasn’t fat?!” but they told me. They told me every. single. day. So, I wish I had believed them. Because I had a great body. And I’d love to say that if I was still that size (unfortunately I’m not, I’ve gained what I like to call “comfortable relationship weight” but I am working on it.) that I’d be one of those confident girls, but I probably wouldn’t. People don’t see the beauty in themselves. I don’t know why.
Funny thing is, I’m probably happier in my body than I was then. Sure, I know if I shed all the gained pounds I’d probably be happier still. But I’m still comfortable. Okay, I still wouldn’t dream of wearing short shorts or mini skirts. But that never has or never will be me anyway. And yes, my butt is the size of a small Country but my butt is also one of my favourite parts of my body.
Of course, in the grand scheme of things body size and weight mean absolutely jack ALL. As long as a person is happy in themselves, and is healthy with it, I think all shapes and sizes are beautiful. Until it comes to myself, obviously. Funny how things work like that.