Is this hell?

CN: christianity, abuse, trans stuff

Like, sometimes I wonder if I’m in hell. See, one of the things I was taught, or should I say indoctrinated into, is that God’s presence is absent in hell. And I’m an atheist. I don’t believe in gods. But maybe that’s because they really don’t exist on this plane of existence and I’m being punished. I mean, like, why else would I have to go thru the dysphoria, intense chronic pain, and all the rest. Sometimes I wonder if all the abuse is just background that’s inflicted upon me as another form of torture.

So, I don’t actually believe this is the case. I’m not that narcissistic. But yeah, I got some mental issues and hang ups left from when I was Catholic. That shit is toxic, y’all.

poem: Living with The Raven.

content note: Suicide. 

Living with The Raven*

I’ve got a note in my head
allocating possessions
attempting to explain

An apology of sorts
for my failings
and lack of strength

It changes from time to time
but it’s always been
as long as I remember

I live with this note
a reminder
of my way out

No one has ever seen it
and if they do they will cry
but I will weep no more.

 

*reference to Edgar Allen Poe

a poem about longing

Clouds Through the Ceiling

The quiet girl in the corner
Sits waiting
Dreaming of touch
And desires not yet fulfilled

The quiet girl in the corner
Waits her turn
To be real
And to breathe in.

This poor lonely girl
Still believes in love
And desperately wants
Things she cannot name.

Queer Romance short stories by @lifeinneon

My friend Autumn has been writing some amazing short fiction with queer and trans characters in a fantasy universe. She’s also really struggling with student loans. Y’all should try out her fiction here: http://trashmance.com/ and if you like it, contribute to her Patreon here: http://www.patreon.com/lifeinneon

Poem: she went to smith

She Went to Smith*

You knew

You knew exactly what you were doing

You talk all about how you support us

How you believe in our rights

You were supposed to be my friend

You knew that by making that choice

You knew you were benefitting

From my oppression

And you did choose

How could  you?

How dare you?

You chose to go

You chose to benefit from my oppression

And tried to call me a friend

But you knew

And that makes all the difference. **

footnotes

* Smith college still has many trans misogynist policies. If you can’t get your school records changed, you can’t get in. They actively discriminate against me and my kind. She knew this before applying.

**  Allusion to The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

 

 

New poem: My favorite cousin

content note: Childhood sexual abuse, incest

My Favorite Cousin

My favorite cousin
When I was young
Sexually abused me
And my family still doesn’t know

About what happened
About the trauma

And my favorite cousin
Sexually abused me
When I was young
And I still hurt
And feel disgusting

And my family still doesn’t know

He was young too
A child himself
And innocent

He didn’t know
What he’d done to me
The pain that would last

And I can’t hate him
My favorite cousin
From when I was young
That would be simple
And that would be easy

But my favorite cousin
Sexually abused me
And didn’t know the harm.

New poem: NO

Content note: Rape

NO

I asked her to stop
And she stopped
And I cried
Tears of gratitude

She didn’t rape me
And I’m so grateful

My Agency
My Autonomy
My bodily integrity

Have never been respected

And I’m still not prepared for it
And I’m still not expecting it

And I’m still so grateful

That the ones I care for
The ones that love me

Do

Knowing the Rain Will Fall

Content note: Family

It hurts every time either of them speak to me.
What is conversation?
Me steeling myself, preparing for the inevitable blows?

I’ve heard that love and hate are opposites.
But truly the opposite of both is indifference.
If Only I could achieve it.

Should I remember the way we used to be today?
Me and my dad.
Laughing and relating

But no longer.
You see… I’m Queer.
And that’s always what I’ll be to him now.

This is what they call familial love.
And I keep coming back.
Knowing the rain will fall.

Wrote this a while back, decided I’d share.

Ode to Long Days

To long days ahead
Ode to Joy on my mind
First song I played
Back in those long haired guitar days

Rush, Rush around
Sell those things holding me down
See the pshrink
And the bureaucracy awaits.

Then to L.A.
Meeting her friends
Unfamiliar places and people
I’ll still push through

Not long now
One year in time
The peace built by estrogen
Disrupted by oppression
And what happened back when

Ode to the before times
My guitar sings no more
Now my eyes weep instead
There are long days ahead.