musingsofadepressedgay

[musingsofadepressedgay]

My hands are coated in blood

And in sweet mockery of the lamb

It is my own

Because I refuse to give it up

I was told to give all my sins to christ

But without my mistakes who am I

If I gave it all away

My flesh and blood no longer my own

But rather something for others to feast upon

If I live my whole life in shame

For not being capable of constantly obeying

What will my reward be

A body more foreign than the one I gave away

They said he would make me whole

Something perfect

Something new

But I fear, that there will be nothing left

If all that is broken is replaced

Then what is left of me

I let myself grow like a dandelion through concrete

And if the cracks are smoothed away

What happens to the life

that clawed its way through them

I have never been like a forget me not

I am more stubborn than beautiful

And I don't belong in anybody's yard

So when it comes time to weed the garden

If I followed every step the best I could

Walked every treacherous turn of the straight and narrow

Would I recognize my form

Life has left me bruised and bloodied

But it has left me as me

I cannot say the same for the outstretched hand

Waiting to wipe my blood

And soul

Away

[musingsofadepressedgay]

It waded through the leaves

Swimming in a lake

Of death

Never put to rest

Frozen, Stuck in a crude imitation

Of life

The ones who refilled the feed

Have gone away

Places once forbidden

Lay open

With none left to give them sanctity

No one left to care

For everything left behind

That survived

It follows it's mother

Each step as new as the last

The world outside of the garden

Is less foreign

Than what they left behind

The world full of danger

It will never realize

So it is sleeping with its mother

On a bed of leaves

Everywhere in the forest

A bed of leaves

Sleeping under the stars

No barn roof

to protect from any rain or storm

Tomorrow

When it wakes

It will try again

With no experience

To guide it

On how to live

Live

In the midst of the now silent forest

No birds will sing

With the sun

To wake the sleeping calf

As it lays beneath

A petrified apple tree

[musingsofadepressedgay]

every time I think about my gender I get confused so I simply stopped thinking about it. it is not my problem

[musingsofadepressedgay]

When you know me, know me gently darling

Because I am scared to know myself

When you hold me, hold me gently darling

Because I am ripping at the seams

And when you know me

When I have no secrets left to give you

No chips left on the table

No tricks left up my sleeve

When you have seen every ugly thing I close my eyes to when I look in the mirror

I beg of you darling

Build yourself a sanctuary

I will leave no bridge left unburnt

No dagger left unthrown

No heart left unbroken

If you love me darling, keep your distance

I am not easy to hold

Not easy to know

Not easy to love

[musingsofadepressedgay]

While I was a Mormon, nice had a very different definition to me. It was the same form of nice that some managers expect from customer service workers, the idea that it was the higher road to not only accept being beaten and betrayed, but to be happy about it. To take it with a smile and ask if there is anything more that I could do for them.

And I became convinced that it was an act of dignity, of love, to grovel. That it was expected in my every interaction, even when it was people who wanted to be my equal.

I'm being nice I destroyed my trust in people I should have trusted. Because I was never allowed to fully speak my mind, and so I didn't believe that other people were saying fully what they wanted, because I never was. I played so many tricks on myself and I was always the fool falling for them.

I made my mother cry when I tried to tell her this. I didn't know the words to say. I just told her I was tired of being nice. She said she thought she had raised me better. And that she hoped I would change my mind. I didn't have the words to say that I was so burnt out from treating every social interaction like a test I was failing. The only word I knew for what I did was, being nice.

I wish I could claim that it was something I stopped when I wanted to

I wish I could claim that it wasn't an addiction

That I didn't crave the illusion that it brought with it, that if I made people I loved feel important enough that they would protect me from things I feared I couldn't't save myself from

The lie of control that it brought

That if I showed devotion in every possible way that I would get love and safety in return

Everyone became my god

And my purpose was to serve

Because our relationship with God was loving and perfect was it not?

And so I should show similar love to everyone in my life

I never really knew what love was, while it was spoon fed to me that love was unquestioning, unwavering, needing nothing in return, servitude

Complete and utter devotion, to the point of allowing it to engulf me

But I didn't need to have a whole and distinct self

I just prayed that it would come to me, that doing what I knew, the groveling, the smiling, the lying, would be enough of a self that I would be happy

Because anything otherwise meant I would have to accept that I couldn't control the way people cared for me by trying to be everything they wanted, by fulfilling their every want so they could fulfill my need

Love was a bargain, I put in my identity, my sense of self, my integrity, my dignity, everything I could

And in return I felt like I could be cared for, that I could be loved, that I was worthy of being cared for and loved

[musingsofadepressedgay]

I will love you the same way a planet, or a man, is drawn in too close to the sun

The same way a moth longs for the warm light of a porch lamp

I am a fragile thing compared to your fiery splendor

I will melt in your arms the same way that wax melts in the inescapable heat

And my heart will burn the same as when the wax blisters and burns the skin that it touches when it melts

And I will ignore all of the warnings

Drawn in to an unavoidable end

But for a beautiful minute, before the flames claim their prize and gravity takes me into her firm grasp, I am one with you

And then the moment ends and I can see no more, your beautiful light blinding my vision

And I cry, not in grief, but in joy

The flesh a small price to pay for a moment where there is no separation between you and me

And though I will never taste eternity, the forbidden fruit is always my choice between the two

Because in my mind, it tastes like you

[musingsofadepressedgay]

Just another hit, you know I can't resist

I'm hooked on your affection love,

Causing new cravings to exist

That I cannot rise above

The slippery slope I've gone and rode,

Exhilarated by the ride

Upon my heart you have a hold,

Moving me like the moon does the tide

You have turned me to an addict

And I can feel no remorse

Of everything you accuse me I'm a convict

I've no pride left, no other course

I cannot deny you, defy you, if I could only hold you,

It would be reason enough,

You have me captive, called out my bluff

Because I couldn't keep up the act, you saw right through

I've become enraptured

Captured

And I have handed you the key

Because no matter how the dice are cast, you will always have a part of me

[musingsofadepressedgay]

Okay so if baptism is a contract like Mormons say it is then that means that

Not only is God making an eternally binding contract with beings vastly unable to understand the consequences on the scale of eternity

But also!

God is fucking making contracts with eternally binding contracts with 8 yr olds

Why did it take me so fucking long to realize that is fucked up

(I know why it is cause it was told to me as something not to question but I digress)

It's one of those things that was taught as a core belief to never question but looking back at it it makes no fucking sense

Because if God was really there as was a benevolent and divine being who needed terms laid out in a contract in order to be able to help people, why in the world would the age of 8 be chosen as old enough to comprehend the life long commitment that they are agreeing to

8 isn't the age of compression and intelligence to make decisions for their future, 8 is just an age where children are easy to manipulate into being more tightly pressed into the Mormon church, because if they are just baptized as babies the church can't say that they 'chose' to do it, as if an 8 year old living with their parents who has no independence could choose to say no

If the Mormon god really is up there then they are not benevolent, because making a binding contract pretending to be equals with a child, as a divine being is inherently abusive given the extreme power difference

[musingsofadepressedgay]

Yet another comic about leaving the Mormon church that can be applied to a variety of things.

[musingsofadepressedgay]

I can't be what you need

Use every last drop of me but it's not enough

Let me fill your cup

But darling we are insatiable

I can see the hunger in your eyes

Go ahead and take a bite

Tear into my heart still beating

But it is never enough

You carve in like an animal

Your hunger overwhelming your humanity

What use have we for forks and knives when your teeth rend me just fine

Let your words be barbs let your teeth be sharp don't hold yourself back in any regard

I'm much too fragile for you, but I don't mind

Nothing lasts forever darling, don't try to save me

Gorge yourself till there is nothing left behind

And for a moment I'll be one with you, our spirits entertwined

And then it fades, my bones decay, leaving just enough behind to be a shire to our passion, your delight, and my undoing

[musingsofadepressedgay]

What about the children

What about the children, what will they think of when they see how vulgar you are

What about the children, we need to be able to explain to them first, it's a difficult topic and parents should be in control of how and when their kids learn about you

What about the children, we don't want to expose their innocent minds to something as vile as you

What about the children, what about the children, what about the children

What about the children who never got to be children

The children who had to learn to grow up fast because nobody would protect them so they must protect themselves

What about the children who never got to be adults

The children who got bloodied and bruised

The children who couldn't take it anymore

What about the children who are terrified of the people who should be protecting them

What about the children who know they are different but can't figure out what is wrong with them

The children who tried every day to pray it away but could never fix themselves

I was a child once, but I was never allowed to be the same child as everyone else

What about the children who could never be themselves

What about the children who sat by themselves because they are scared of what their peers will do to them

What about the children

When did they stop being children

Were they ever children to you, or just a casualty to your fear

What about the children

Am I really the worst thing they will see

The world seems to be falling apart, but I am holding someone's hand

What about the children

The hearts on my shirt are vulgar, the colors disgusting, my makeup scaring to their young eyes

What about the children

I put my arm over someone's shoulder and they will never be the same

What about the children

Because I am now the monster that will keep them up at night, unless I try to mask and blend in

And even then

What about the children

Even then, I cannot hide

What about the children

I will always be too vile for their eyes

[musingsofadepressedgay]

This is one of those times where I wasn't trying to go for well drawn, just more of getting my feelings on paper (in a manner of speaking). Might do a well drawn version later on, might not. We shall see.

[musingsofadepressedgay]

If someone is putting oil on me and touching me to make me feel better, it's going to be in a VERY different context. But in all seriousness, blessings do nothing. Go to a doctor or therapist or an otherwise qualified professional

[musingsofadepressedgay]

I didn't know loneliness before I knew you

I knew what it was like to be alone, and I knew what it was like to want for others company

But I didn't know loneliness the way I know it now

I didn't know what it meant to be addicted to a person's presence and go through the withdrawals of their absence, I didn't know what it meant to feel encompassed and consumed, I didn't know what it meant to be devoted body and soul till you taught me

I was always wet clay, easily shaped, but you were the one who sat down at the wheel and molded me into your desires

You created what you wanted from the devotion I gave you, and what you wanted most was mirror you could look into and see yourself

I never knew what it meant to be empty before you

I didn't know what it meant to crave before I met you

I was never enough after I met you

And in the time that has passed I suspect you have forgotten me, and in all the time that will pass I suspect I will never forget you

You are the closest thing I ever had to a god, a being whose will I would enact whatever the cost, desperate for your approval, baptized in your desires

And in all the time that has passed I've made loneliness my lover, known it in every form it takes

Running from one fix to the next trying to ignore the hole you carved in me to sample my heart and see if it was to your liking

And now I wait on my knees for some new deity who desires devotion and I perform all the tricks I've been taught, a show dog looking to impress

You taught me many lessons I will never forget

And so I keep my shape, molded the same way I was so many years ago

And I hope that if I follow the rules just right

I will be good enough that I am granted a place by my deities side

And forget what the loneliness feels like

[musingsofadepressedgay]

Adding a cut to this one because even though I have a tendency to ramble this one does get long and I knew that before I started making this post, hence the cut

Tw this is a stream of consciousness poem?? Of sorts dealing with how I have been raised to view my body and my journey with it, it deals with dysphoria and sextualizing and deals with the idea of my body being something to be bought and sold mostly in the context of sex work

If any of that is not something you want to read I don't blame you, it definitely could use some more editing but whatever I'm not putting it in a museum or anything I am putting it on my Tumblr blog

This contains three diffrent branches of thinking

How I was raised to think

How the person I have become thinks

And intrusive feelings

I used to have them color coded but Tumblr hates me so alas you get no color coding

Cross your legs at the ankles not at the knees, it is your job to make sure people aren't looking up your skirt

Shorts longer than your fingertips you wouldn't want to distract the boys around you

Look professional, cover everything above your knees

Cover your entire shoulders, don't let anyone see your bra strap when it slides down

Keep yourself in line, you don't know who is looking

If what you are wearing is too tight you are trying to make people lust after you

If you wear something too loose you aren't trying to look good at all

You are supposed to be appealing but tastfully

Let everyone stare but don't make them feel bad about it later by letting them see too much

If you don't keep your up values you become pornography

Keep the men around you in check by not giving them lustful thoughts about you

They just can't help it if you are showing that much skin

Your body is unprofessional

Your body is a distraction

Your body is a temptation

Your body is your responsibility, and so is the way people perceive it

Your body is a gift from God

Your body is a temple

Your body is a sign of devotion

Your body is not yours

Your body never belongs to you

Your body never has been yours

Your body is more valuable than your mind, than your voice

Your body is more valuable than what you think,

Than your heart

Your body would be so much more appealing if it didn't come with all of the gross uncomfortable things that make you human

Your body is an offering for anyone who wants to take it

Your body is a bribe

Your body is a commodity

Your body is a snare to bring people in and a treat to keep them coming back

Your body is sinful

Your body is wrong

Your body isn't yours Your body isn't yours Your body isn't yours Your body isn't yours

Your body doesn't feel right

Your body isn't right

Why is it not right

Your body isn't right

What do I do

Your body isn't right

Please what am I doing wrong

Your body has never been yours

Change it change it change it change it change it change it change it change it

You want your body to be yours

Change it

You aren't changing it right

Change it

It just makes it worse

Change it

You are just choosing a new buyer

Change it

It's never been yours

Change it

Your body is wrong

Just accept it

Your body is a commodity

Your body is a weapon

Your body is worth more than the you inside it

Accept it

Use your body

Choose who to sell it to

Accept it

Your body

Is wrong

Your body will never be yours

Change it

How

How

How

Your body isn't yours

Your body isn't right

Change

Change what

Change what

Change what

Change what Change what Change what Change what Change what Change what

Please tell me

Please

Your body is wrong

[musingsofadepressedgay]

Welcome to my blog I’m filled with sadness and I yearn to be kissed on the neck

[musingsofadepressedgay]

On the one hand, depression and trauma and other such things that come with memory loss and suppression are bad

On the other hand tho, I am doing breath of the wild esc cut scenes where I show up in a certain place and I get lore, but it's about myself

Which is much cooler in theory because on practice it is me going about my day and then all of a sudden I go hey what the fuck oh yeah that did happen didn't it

Jump scared by my brain

But ya know it is on brand of 'never let them know your next move' because I am also unaware of what my next move was