transgender blues

i've done it.


i've done a lot.

i've laughed till i peed myself,

cried until my throat was sore,

figured myself out so i wouldn't have to

stress about it anymore.

i have really,

i've sent an email to my school,

in regards to my situation.

“Dear Mr/Mrs,

on your roster says my legal name….

..can you please call me…..

and use the right pronouns?

  ….it is much appreciated.

Best Wishes,”

the call to my parents i never like to remember.

the single 45 minute talk.

“Don’t change who you are, we’ll love you the same”

that last line got to me;

were they going to take this stress off me,

“What about my name and pronouns, like, at home?”

make life a tad easier for me?

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, honey.”


where is that bridge?

what happened?

did we miss it,

did you avoid it?

do you think i'm just fine,

do you think this is something to brush off your shoulders,

ignore until it goes away?

i begin to question love;

does it truly exist?

i begin to question trust;

who i can and cannot



the tears

the pain

all for a thing

that shouldn't be stressed about.

all the kids

focused on adult things,

all the kids

who cry themselves to sleep

on dark and painful nights,

all the kids,

who just want to be themselves

without the fear of being




simply for being themselves.

it's a sad world.

it's okay to wallow.

it's okay to cry.

it's okay.

it's okay.


This poem is about: 
My family


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