I don't recognize what they call me
It's like that mental illness with a really long name
"transgendered," a "transgender" like I'm a species of plant
paper hollows in my eyes
flowers in my chest
and a fire in my lungs
that cannot be stopped.
I am him,
and when I leave, when I leave you behind,
dust trails behind the blistered and cracked
empty in my eyes
and power in my hands
I am not done here.
-Tyler
this is a really beautiful poem. It gives a sense of strength and power and that you can overcome anything. I really like that. Great work!
You paint with words very well. I liked the images you made.