People assume you are heterosexual and cisgendered, etc. They expect people who aren't typical have to say otherwise, or it's somehow dishonest. I expect people need to stop making assumptions!
There once was a girl from Troy,
Who grew up as a boy.
She loved being a lesbian,
But couldn't find the right women,
So now she uses a toy!
I may offer my hand, but every moment brings change. I will keep moving forward with those changes, even if it seems like I'm in the same state. A hand refused is not the same result as a hand never offered, and the result is different for both sides.
I am sorry if I hurt your feelings. Please understand my sensitivity toward those who are actively working to deny my rights. They hurt my feelings.
I'm really tired of dealing with the fucked up people in this country. I need to get myself out of here.
I've been through a lot of challenges lately. I like to think that I'm always challenging myself to be a better person. However, most of my challenges come from dealing with things outside of my control, like other people, most commonly. I've learned to accept the realities that I can't change, so when I face negativity, I have learned to roll past it. I choose love over hate.
I have heard that I'm strong, but I feel weak. So often, I have thought about giving up on difficult challenges. I fight for truth, know that things will change, and believe in love. Sometimes love is not enough.
She let me be as one with her, and I lost myself for the first time in the essence of another.
I knew I would never be the same. How can you mature with someone as one heart, and then be completely apart, without depressing pain?
I have surely lost the essence of myself as I grow older. I have already lost the love of my life, twice, causing my blood to run colder.
Now I see the cycle repeating with others: more of my will decaying with their more rapid departures.
What you see before you is a soul stripped bare: my gender an expression of my life without a care.
A rare smile is strained. My hair is chopped off. My skin color is drained. My grasp feels soft.
Do you see what is missing? I have tried to find myself, but I can’t replace the one I miss kissing.
Everything I am is a reference to a memory. All that’s left of me is one half of a pair that used to be.