These things are true

These things are true

there are aspects of femininity that stick to my guts.

I love purple glitter glam fluttery flirty clothing.

Most of my self loathing has been directed to my body image.

I buy cheap glam sham slam trinkets at Wal Mart and Thrift stores.

Love is something I believe in.

My lungs are weak.

At times I have looked at my hands and they have transformed into a woman's hand, the gauzy white light about the fingers, the nails dark red stain upon the glow.

In anger my wife told me I had “woman's hands”
When I was younger and dressing in my mother's clothes, her perfume trailing behind me as I posed in the window for the college boys who drove down my street.

At one time I wanted a boyfriend more than anything in the world.

At one time I detested my bisexual urges, so much I punished myself through starvation and denial.

Orange is my favorite color.

There are times when I want to peel the skin off my bones because it's so sensitive. Like cold teeth. Like a sprained back. That hot itching pain that pulses in yr bones, in yr sinuses, in yr heart.

I want to pass.

I feel like I was born too tall.

I hope I have the courage to change.
My heart rate increased and I warmed all over, but did not show my pleasure.

All I have ever wanted is to be a housewife, a hearth, the large pot of soup, the fresh laundry and homemade cheese. Dandelion wine. The walrus teeth bravery of wild onion soup.