#trans poem

[pavlovs-favorite]

I wouldn’t choose anything else.

I love the softness that my mother nurtured in me

The way my smile begins to wrinkle

Into hers

If I was cis it would have been easier

But how much of me is built off of who I was

All the versions of me deserve to be remembered

[pavlovs-favorite]

I have been born so many times in my life

And yet every time my mother welcomes me with open arms

with tears and fears of what may come next for me

But yet she still lets me go

She smiles wide as I step up to greet the world

All teeth and beauty and hope and tragedy

For a child so unlike her I see her face in my reflection

I feel her gentle fingers scratching my scalp

Like I’m 9 years old again woken from a bad dream

The only reason I return to my childhood home

Is to talk to her, and hear her stories for the thousandth time

But it will never be too much, because it is her

While I, before her, all tears, and cropped hair, art and dysphoria.

I look nothing like the girl she dreamed up

Yet without a beat she tells me how proud she is of me

And she looks at me like nothing has changed.

[crymeamarlowe]

THE LITTLE BOY I WAS NOT

Hey child , don't you see?

You've always been my destiny

Well then why do I seek

Such an empty husky memory ?

Hey boy, don't you care?

I've been here all night

Ears bigger than a hare's

Such is needed near a fight

Hey kid, don't you think?

It has been weeks and weeks

All my life went out in a blink

Must be my brain's recollection leaks

[thorny-horror]

~Mirror~

I looked into the mirror And saw a stranger Looking back

I stared for hours And hours Until my eyes began to ache

I try to fix my self And fix And fix But never seem happy

“Too much” here “Too little” there Never perfect

I step in the bathroom Which feels like it’s shrinking already And look into the mirror again But I see

A boy

Finally

Free at last

[wiredtiresias]

Who has the poem called something like “i imagine all my friends calling me tranny when im not there”

[twilightstruggleswithlove]

I'll carve her into my own self,

my own flesh,

to save the girl

that goes to rack and ruin

deep within—

This borrowed vessel.

Each cut, shaping

to fit their perfect mold.

Yet inside,

I hear

a voice smothered

by myocyte and bones,

pleading to breathe

in her own skin—

I feel I suppressed

her too much

with every silence,

and I fear

I’ve already

killed her,

But behind the bitter decadence,

Deep within Myocyte and bones,

holds a quiet little lamb

Caged in corroded flesh

Wishing to be set free.

She's forced to suffer

In a body

Not deserving of

her beauty—

I hope to slice what's left

From a corse long,

deteriorated

For what flæsc remains

I'll pare.

Stitching the threads

For my

Own perfection—

Will I truly be seen?

Maybe then could she breathe?

Or will this sufferance kill her—

-Twilightstruggleswithlove

Keywords

Corse (kors): middle English word for corpse.

Flæsc (flash): middle English word for flesh.

[parker0003]

I kinda hate myself but I love writing poems like a vine that reaches and grows, creating a fruit that travels through the rich that they thrive off of yet turning it evil by forcing it to juice, my own private fruit

[ghostingriley]

𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍,

𝚂𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜,

𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎.

- 𝚁𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚢