Susan's Place Transgender Resources

I found this poem while going through some boxes of my dad's things.  It is not titled.  It is hand written and the edges of the paper are browning.  There's no telling when he wrote this, but I want to share it....


I build walls
I don't let people see me
     the real me
I wear masks
I've got a big collection
I don't let people see me
     the real me
I'm in a little box
I don't let people touch me
     play with my emotions
I don't let people touch me
     the real me
I hide in my superficial body
No one can find me
No one can see me
No one can touch me
     or hear, or smell, or taste me
Will you find me?
Willyou see me?
Will you touch
     or hear, or smell, or taste me?
Will you love me?
On second thought,
leave me alone.
I will only be hurt again
I hold the key to the box
You can't get over my walls
You can't take off my masks
You can't get in my box
I hope, At least, I think I hope

gin im so glad you found this and decided to share with us.

hugs and  :-* :-*

Ginger,
   That is deep. It is good you found it. Too bad it does not have a date on it? Thanks for sharing it with us.
                                             Marco

Thanks for sharing that.  I liked it.  :)

Melissa

No, unfortunately there is no date on it.  It's just written on piece of paper torn out of a small spiral notebook.  I may have it laminated or something to prevent it from fading.  I don't know what else to do as the writing is on both sides of the paper.
Ginger

Laminating is the only thing you can do for it. That will keep it from further abuse from the air elements.

                                                Marco

I liked it too.  But I'm not sure that laminating will preserve it forever (which it should be because it describes being a closeted TS so well).  If the paper was made with an acid base, it will brown and deteriorate from that, I believe, even without being exposed to oxygen.  There are paper conservators who may be able to help with this if you really want to keep the original.

Or maybe a little research before you do anything irreversable might be advisable.

Meine zwei Pfennig!
helen

Thank you so much for sharing your dad's poem with us, Gin :'(.all of us relate to those words one way or another...


tinkerbell :icon_chick:

Gin,

I am curious, how do you interpret the poem?  If you don't mind sharing, what does it mean to you?

Love always,
Elizabeth

Holding back tears. Thanks for sharing, Gin.

Nero

Elizabeth, I interpret the little box he lives in to be his spirit.  I think the walls and masks were all the emotional barriers he put up to protect himself.  The superficial body is obviously the body he was born with.  I don't know details of his transition, but some type of bottom surgery was started and never completed, so even after transition, his body remained superficial.  Sadly, this poem describes his life perfectly to me.  He never really opened himself to us - I never really knew my father's spirit.  He never allowed himself to show his love for us because he was afraid of the pain that comes with ridicule and rejection.  He never allowed himself to accept love from those of us that did love him, nor did he ever allow himself to love himself.  It's so hard for me to imagine going through life and not being the free spirit that I am....always having to  pretend to be somebody else, just to be accepted.  This poem says it all to me.

Ginger,
    That sounds like a pretty good interpitation. I only wish things could have become better for all of you. Live is way too short.
                                          Marco

Thanks Marco.  I have peace now, and I know he does, too.