Weary old Fairy, sh'e walks the lonely path.
Tip of the old sword drags in the dirt, sh'e heads back to the treehouse.
Lights the candle, lights the incense. Then takes the sword, and stares into the fire she keeps in the hearth to stay warm.
Gently, oh so gently, sh'e puts the sword into the side of the fireplace alongside the tools, letting it rest with the poker and the other items used to keep the fire burning through the night.
The old warrior is tired. Its time to let others fight this battle, and for h'er to slip into the shadow world of stealth. Half a decade sh'e has fought for trans, the beauty years are spent, the glories of the past are memories, they left their mark tis true, but it has been a long, hard battle, there are scars, there are trophies, there is sorrow and joy.
It is just so much easier to dissapear in plain sight, to blend in, to be who she is quietly, living out h'er truth under the nose of the cis, without them having a clue.
It wears us down, these battles, and perhaps, it was always the goal and the path to just dissapear, living out our true gender, whatever the heck it is, socially without fear. Just being us.
Lord, we had to fight a war to do that. And the first battle is with ourselves.
The sword glows in the night, the blade is cold, reflective.
Old fairy goes to the bed, satin sheets, satin robe, nylon things all, small breasted but they are very real, skin of a woman, but parts that remain that are born of men. Whether she is wired as a she or not, it remains.
H'er eyes stare into the fire. A hard choice was made tonight, very hard.
Let the sword stay by the fire.
I have fought this battle long enough. I am tired, I want to go home.
Incense burns, candles glow, loneliness is in the air, even with the ciswife.
Only we can understand this, how alone it is to be nonbinary, doubled down spiritually as well, so few of us can keep our faith, the hate drives it out of us, the greatest of hates victories.
Hands grasp for the sword, it is not at h'er side. Let it pass.
Rest, Satinjoy. What are you fighting for? Let it go, the young will take it, write your story, love the people, the battle of the cis, belongs to others, you lost far too much already honey, put down your sword, until you can cry again.