#ftm poem

[cainvstheworld]

Sign of the Cross by Cain Birch

[Text ID: Sign of the Cross by Cain Birch. When you pick up your phone, you perform the sign of the cross, genuflect to unlock. When I am desperate, seeking, I still pray to Saint Anthony. We both were raised as lambs, as daughters under the crook. We consumed body and blood each Sunday, hoping that they would consume us, that they would turn us into something closer to Sons of God rather than Daughters. But the Eucharist is only a wafer; the wine is watered down. Our limbs stayed soft until they drank from glass chalices, from the palms of pharmacists. Love, let me suture up the holes in your palms, my needle sterilized with hellfire. /End ID]

[dysl3xicpo3t]

getting worse

everything i've built up is coming down in a spiral of my state. 

everything i’ve worked for is becoming unravelled at the hands of my thoughts. 

everything I need is drifting away from my grasp. 

everything i want couldn’t be further away. 

I'm getting worse and there’s nothing that can save me. 

[asmanysouls-astherebestars]

There’s a girl in my closet- a Transgender Poem

There’s a girl in my closet

And under my bed

She’s hidden away

But she lives in my head

A visitor, but a welcomed guest

(Give her the kindness and solitude she deserved)

Sometimes she comes to the mirror to play

(Wishing that when I see her, it wasn’t through a lens of loathing)

The girl in my closet

Is slowly erased

Once hers is mine (ours)

Or is gone

The girl in my closet

Is no longer real

She disappears to me (To everyone but those who despise her and I)

The girl in my closet

Did she ever exist?

Both here and not

Always is and never was

[bibibimyself]

Hands claw at my chest,

Wishing the flesh was clay,

So I could mold it into its right shape.

Clay building underneath my nails,

Remove the weight where it shouldnt be,

Create shape where it should be.

I wish my flesh was clay.

[peachypie-puppy]

I wrote another notes app poem finally

Inspired by a random tiktok I saw but can’t find anymore

[adiodont]

figuring things out, reflecting.

[somegaywizard]

A two sentence poem about my childhood best friend <3

[m4nc4v3-2000]

It's not so lonely out there.

[emotional-moss]

ten short hymns representing a doomed sense of being

i. look at your hands. you are the weapon, you always have been.

ii. o my swineherd, o my swine. this is boyhood and they will kill you with it. it is not yours to begin with, you have to fight for it. you fight for it to be turned against and you know why. you crave difference. 

iii. you are not soft, you are not strong either. have you ever seen a fossil? you are an imprint of what you used to be. 

iv. all my wounds say the same thing. they tell me this is not how it should be. all my bandages keep them quiet and insist this is how it is. 

v. i died in a flood many years ago. 

vi. i am a girl falling asleep on the bus. i am the dying dog recognizing his master.

vii. i hurt my back doing a handstand and felt my teeth ache.

viii boyhood is ugly, i crave it. i crave it revoltingly, i sob into my bedsheets and wish i could tear out my flesh from where it doesn’t belong. i am desperate.

ix. i want to hold my friends. i want to have more friends. i do not want to scare people. i would rather scar myself than scare people. 

x. let me be soft, lord. my soul is going to eat me someday. until then, let me be soft.

[earlgaylatte]

Burnt Popcorn

I never misgender myself, Unless I’m standing in the kitchen with my mom,  Cooking popcorn a bit too long So it sits on my tongue with that bitter-salt-char Only the two of us can stand. 

When I was growing up,  The kitchen was small enough to call it A confessional booth, small enough,  To keep fathers and devils out of it,  Small enough, That male intrusion felt like sacrilege. 

One of these afternoons, I just know- I’ll come home to it expanded,  Rugs pushing neatly into the living room, Cupboards organized by ingredients  Instead of color. 

I’m not a woman, but part of me Will always be a little girl twisted  Up on the floor of the kitchen chewing Mango pits and getting caught underfoot.

Sometimes I see her in the reflection of clean pots and pans,  When I’m seasoning cast iron. I make tea and the loose lemongrass in Mom’s cup Forms her daughter’s face.

Did you have prophecies too, Mama? Or  Is that something you shed like a Second skin when you started going to that Fundie church for a boy with blue-grey eyes and A haunting grin? I want to know

If the ashes from his cigarette falling Onto your pregnant belly revealed the Spiteful bitch I’d become.

I used to identify as a girl, now,  I  identify as a witch and a bastard. I call myself things You’re too disgusted to utter out loud. 

But sometimes, I miss using your wooden spoons to burn popcorn The way we both like. I’d let you kick me off your counters  A thousand times if you’d just call me your son.

Dear Midwestern Daughter, Dear Midwestern Ghost.  One of these days I’ll hand you the dread I shouldered like Judas and teach You just how I earned this name.

[fickes]

insecurities and realities for a transman in the dating world

[savroon]

on my transmasc x transfem agenda ……. (agender haha get it)

just a transfem kissing her boyfriend’s cheeks and both of them giggling together as she helps him apply his testosterone . just a transmasc teaching his girlfriend the way he applied his eyeliner before he came out , hoping it brings her more happiness than it ever did for him . transmascs and transfems cuddling and kissing . i find that very pleasant :3

[dysl3xicpo3t]

may i?

may i?

when you asked me the two worded question, 

my heart stopped,

not out of fear or upset,

but out of genuine surprise. 

i wasn’t afraid to say no,

i didn’t feel pressured to say yes,

it was my choice,

you gave me a choice.

you gave me a choice i had never been given. 

[wooftphr]

journal: bigender blues

[toomuchdivergentformyneuro]

i’m tired 

i’m constantly stumbling, falling, getting back up, 

but just in time to be kicked back down again to my hands and knees 

i see trans people, my age, and older, and younger, taking steps towards their transition or even meeting some of their goals for self image already 

i see my fellows getting up after getting kicked down for so long and finally starting to make steps 

and i’m happy for them, i’m rooting for them, they’re so awesome and i’m so proud of them and i’m so happy that they can do that for themselves

but i’m left here and i’m still getting kicked down 

even when i bind, my chest is nowhere near flat 

my binded chest looks like a trans person’s unbound one

and i don’t look anything like a guy

and i’m nowhere near T or surgeries 

i’m tall or lanky or anything else like that

the veins on my hands don’t show up

i don’t have an adam’s apple or anything close to one 

my hips are too hippy and my boobs are too booby

and nothing hides those things

no amount of large clothes, makeup, or exercise will do anything for these things

i feel left behind 

the other boys are starting to look like themselves

and i’m over here always stuck as a girl, getting gender envy even from them

i’m tired

— it sucks to be stuck as something you’re not, 8/23/2024

[evakshinova]

<<the constant pressure to be whatever people want me to be is killing me>>

[ID: a text saying "dont be surprised when I bite" on top of a drawing of a wolf snarling biting on a star]