We move on, leave people behind
Yet; the closet,
does not forget
and holds the power
to unexpectedly remind
I lie down on my bed,
I lie down on my bed & look at the ceiling-
And I think how all of my family members deserve to get awarded
Because of their brilliant acting skills.
This piece is a recollection of my Petrarchan adoration of the woman, who helped me come to terms with a significant part of my identity.
Am I the labels i was born with or bestowed upon me?
Every Valentine’s Day gig I’m offered, I’m performing along with a cis-man because the hotel wanted a “boy-girl duet” to up their romance quota. This triggers bouts of dysphoria because my voice is what puts me in the “girl” category in such gigs. While being a transman is a part of my identity, being a musician is an even bigger part.
As the months passed, I was running out of reasons to convince my brain that I was heterosexual. The only straw I was holding on to was that I knew for sure I’d been attracted to boys. I knew I liked them, in the way that the movies told me I was supposed to. But I didn’t know how to tell the difference between really wanting to be friends with a girl and being attracted to her.
SHE — taught me love, moreover made me realize my true self more than anybody ever could. She offered me her friendship and I wanted to offer her all my love and we both met in the middle ground like dawn before the night crept in.
One the count of three,
I will ask for your hand for a walk,
"You will call me by your name and as I will call you by mine",
We will walk by the beach to the sunrise,
Sharing a kiss and a moment so divine.