Me

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Salty tears.
Broken smiles.
Empty eyes.
Shaking hands.
Broken fingernails.
I'm always cold.
Always scared.
Always anxious.
Always.
Always.
Always!

My mind fights against me.
I fight a battle I cannot hope to win.
But I know I'm not the only one.

My fellow humans face demons just as much as I do.
Demons.
Since when did they get a being, a pronoun.

The empty thoughts,
The destructive actions.
The "kisses with death."

They are everything I don't want.
They are all that I am now.

Angry.
Sad.
Scared.
Stressed.
Pissed off.
Abused.

At home, I am ignored.
Silenced.

In public, I am vibrant.
An array of colors, for everyone's eyes.
I will be seen.
I can be heard.

My voice pierces the empty room,
As I speak this for all to hear.
Now that I have you,
The real problems.

I'm human.
I will always be human.

However, to the guys, and woman who;
Catcall,
Abuse,
Rape,
Murder,
And so on.

Maybe you should rethink your humanity.
I mean, I'm not saying I'm perfect.
I'm far from it.

I lie.
I've stolen.
I am so far from perfect.
But I'm still human.

I'm still human.

I think that is the biggest problem people have when they meet me.
As a transgender teen,
Most are upset.

"What about kids?"
"You're gonna regret it when you're older."
So on and so one.

Believe me, I've thought about this, so much.

I realize, I won't be able to have children.
They wont be my own,
And that's the part that hurts.
I'll never be able to hold my child, right after birth.
But you know what?
I'll adopt.
Beat the system!

I won't regret this, because it's who I've always been.
And if I do, be petty.
Come back and throw it into my face.
Be the asshole I know you are.

I'm still human.
I'll still be human.

Salty tears,
Flow down my cheeks.
It's not manly to cry!
But I'm not a man apparently.

Broken smiles.
Feminine smiles.
I wish to be a man.
I wish to rid myself of this body.
And flow forever free.

Empty eyes.
I've seen to much shit to keep going.

Shaking hands.
A disorder,
A problem.

Broken fingernails.
The effects of a disorder.

I'm always cold.
The backlash from my bouts with anorexia.

Always scared.
Always anxious.

I fight a battle,
Against my mind.
Against my parents.
Against you.

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