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.
