Being Trans Feels Breaking Up With Yourself

In retrospect–

That’s the best way to describe it.

I am bad at breakups I just

Don’t do them, and honestly

When they happen, I’d rather just

Drop the mic, roll a joint and

Move on with my life.

I identify more with the queers

Who die in the closet than I do

The queers who die making a whole

Fuss about it– simply because

They, like myself, aren’t so willing

To burn it all down.

I identify as a tortured soul

With an internal dialogue running

All the time wondering

“What is this life and

Where is it taking me— I am not

Who I am supposed to be”

I identify as someone who solves problems

From the source and not

Suckling on some symptom solution

Hopping onto the next easy fix

When I need a recourse.

Whether or not I needed

Medicine to be who I am was entirely

My choice.

My ability for long-term commitment

Much like a relationship, was something

I had to consider before I started.

The thoughts that were with me

All along

Are innate, driving— compelling me

To drive off the road

As long and as hard as I needed to go

Until finally I found

Traction within my own soul—

Perhaps it offends some people

To say “I was born in the wrong body”

But for me— I was born

With a perception problem

It wasn’t until I cleaned myself up

Step by step

That I realized I didn’t need

A new friend— I needed to be seen

For who I am. And that perhaps

It was time for me to admit

That not even I could see him—

I had to be patient,

I had to find him and it often felt as if

I had to break her open in order to escape,

It felt as if I had to lie and tell her

Awful things just to try and

Make her leave. Maybe after some more time

We can be friends.


Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Subscribe to the Blog

Subscribe Here!

Join 515 other subscribers

Archives

Blog Posts

Follow me on Twitter

%d bloggers like this: