Dreaming of a future

When I was young we acted poor but we weren’t
We always had enough in the bank account but we would hardly spend it
Nice House
Tree house and garden
Summer vacation in the woods for two weeks

Straight cis married families surrounded us on all sides
I knew folks who got free lunch, there weren’t a lot, I knew of the broken families, there weren’t a lot
Good school district
Kids down the street
Quaint neighborhood

When you come from that background you just believe you are gonna always be there
Like it’s always gonna work out, you’re always gonna
Get married
have a good job
have money

Then I transitioned from handsome young man to gangly transwoman
The tomboy in me refuses to let me pass
refuses to soften my voice
refuese to wear makeup
refueses to wear any bright colors

Suddenly I don’t see a future that looks like any semblance of what I had
I look around at my community and all I see is a hot mess
Divorce,
shitty exes
messy complicated relationships

Haven’t had a real partner since before I transitioned, I’ve only dated straight ladies
Haven’t had a girlfriend to dream about for a long time, so I don’t
empty dreams
unsure future
hopeless life

Now I have a partner and three kids, we aren’t intimate, we hardly even talk these days
The kids live in a reality I’ve never lived in, a reality separate from ours
hockey, ballet
designer clothes
private lessons

They think they’re rich while we scrounge for for gas my putting 10 dollars in the tank at a time
Pulling from friends and food banks to make sure there is toilet paper and food in the house
EBT
NSF fees
maxed out credit cards

Spending away our future makes it hard to dream about anything
Living in a sea of straight people with mangled families makes it hard to see another way
sex with my ex
Books by queers
trips to the east end

Are what keep me alive, dreaming of a future where I still exist
Dreaming of another world that isn’t straight cis and bland, A world I’m allowed to exist.

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The Day

The day I want to kill myself
it isn’t the day I have a crisis
it isn’t the day I cry for hours
it isn’t the day I cut myself
it isn’t the day I am angry, miserable and filled with rage and hurt

That’s the day I want to scheme
to tie a noose
to make sure it fits over my head
to find a spot
to make sure it’s hidden from sight
to find a stump
to make sure it’s easy to knock over
to write a note
to cry and scream in frustration and hurt when I realize today isn’t the day

The day I want to kill myself is
when I feel the cool breeze over my face
when I can hear the birds chirping around me
when I feel calm and present in my body
when the day has gone well and there isn’t a thing in the world making me knock over that stump

That’s the day I want to kill myself
a good day a happy day
a day where I say that was a full life
a day where I say that was a good time
a day where one tear escapes my left eye and runs all the way down my cheek until it reaches my chin and then it hops off to land on and be absorbed into my shirt
a day where that tear has to run past a smile before I knock over my stump.

Bloody Fists

I bloodied my fist today because of my rage. I thought I was mad at the kids at first, I cursed their names as I uncontrollably punched the cold mud. It wasn’t until later I realized I was angry at you.

You hurt me every time you are near, every time I hear your voice. Your words sting, your insults constantly fly. You claim you joke, you claim I misunderstand, but I am hurt by both what you say and how you treat me, by both your words and what lies between them.

I first looked down at my bloody fist with embarrassment and shame. The same shame I have when I look upon the blood I draw from my own forearms. But as I look back upon it only two days later I see power, power and strength in my bloody fists. I stand tall, chest out, shoulders wide with a calm look of “bring it” on my face. I am not someone to be fucked with. I am power. I am strength. I am perseverance.

I could crush you with this bloody fist, I could rip you apart with this bloody fist. I could make you cry with this bloody fist. I could make you question who you are with this bloody fist. I could make you ashamed to be who you are with this bloody fist. I could make you hurt for years with this bloody fist, the same way you have made me hurt for years.

I may have all this power,  all this strength and all the reasons in the world to take a swing at you with this bloody fist, but I won’t.  I won’t use this power to break you. No, instead I will stick out my bloody fist and I’ll grab your hand. I will pull you up with my bloody fist so you can stand. I’ll teach you with my bloody fist how to apologize. I’ll teach you with my bloody fist how to treat me right, how to talk to me like a person. I’ll teach you how to keep me in your life.

Or maybe I won’t. Maybe you won’t take my bloody fist, maybe you won’t listen to my words and my pleas to treat me right. Maybe you’ll just insist they really are just jokes. Maybe you’ll insisted they really are just misunderstandings.

I may have all this power, all this strength and all the reasons in the world to take a swing at you with this bloody fist, but I won’t. I won’t use this power to break you. I’ll leave you be. I think that is punishment enough. To spend years building someone up, tearing someone down, loving them despite all the hurt you cause them. To mold a human and have them grow up to despise you, to renounce you, to leave you.

What a Luxury

I have come to a lot of new understandings in the past year due to changing experiences and perspective aka, being poor and having 3 kids. These aren’t the things I want to share, they aren’t the joy, the love, the compassion, the growth, the power, the strength I have gained. No these are the ugly, the horrible, the depressing and the crushing I have experienced. I share this here because I have nowhere else to share it. No platform, no time, no people except y’all. Thank you for lending your ear, err your eyes.

And remember, I am currently the best person I have ever been, I’m struggling, sure, but I’m growing. Growth doesn’t happen in times of happiness and joy, but through hardship and challenge.

Luxury is so very perspective based but whatever you deem luxury feels luxurious.

When I was a kid luxury was a bar I couldn’t achieve. Over time it lowered and a few years ago luxury felt like a watermelon, and fresh cooked corn on the cob. Now my bar for luxury is much lower. Peeing alone and undisturbed is a luxury, having 3 dollars on me feels like luxury, having time to write, make art, putting up insulation in my room in the attic feels like luxury, having the ability to ride a bike or a long board or even just go on a walk feels like a luxury. Heck, having a adult conversation feels like luxury.

The luxury I failed to fully comprehend though I acknowledged it was the luxury to dumpster diving. There was so much joy there and the bounty was just that, a bounty of luxurious goods. But this luxury no longer feels like one though, my bounty has begun to feel like a burden. That’s because food from the dumpster feels much more liberating and exciting when you don’t need it to be there. It seems to be how you come at it: without expectation. Meanwhile I jump in these cans questing for a lunch, I have 5 pennies in my wallet and $8.55 of my ACCESS card and I plan on using that to buy something for the kids. These frozen donuts feel like my salvation. Yet they crush me when I realize their importance to me.

Immersing myself in emotions, while normally these were negative emotions, cutting, suicidal thoughts, depression, now feel like luxuries too. I long to feel my hurt, to have the space and the energy to have them consume me. I currently feel a dark cloud that I used to call nihilism and depression. I keep it at arms distance most of the time, but I call upon it when I have a chance to feel it’s overwhelming pressure. I can conjure up tears sitting alone for just minutes now. Time has become so much more valuable and much more well used.

I even have a fucked up day dream along that same line. When the kids are older and the time is freer, I desire to go on a journey like the journey’s I once had and often dream of. A journey of nothing, no destination or point, no resources or burdens. A wandering journey where I just go. A journey where I have my bags and my transportation. Maybe I sleep in a tent outside, maybe I sneak into a hiding spot in a building somewhere. I use what there is around, I just walk a lot, sit a lot and ponder and explore. Then when this time comes to an end, when I am off the map alone and lonely for a few days or few weeks, I disappear to hang my last moments from a noose or dead in a ditch.

I hope to be back to write more for ya’ll. I have a poem called “Bloody Fists” coming out next week or so.

Winter Solstice 2017

The first time I missed winter solstice in 7 years was December 21st 2016. Here I am sitting cross legged on a crushed Domino’s pizza box on a cement-floored, covered porch pressed in the corner against two cold brick walls of a house. Clarity, my platonic partner, is standing feet from me taking puffs from her cigarette and occasionally turning to blow them outside of the covered porch area we are in. She’s waiting for me to be present again, to talk to her. I’m absorbed in my phone frantically typing into the search bar of my web browser, “winter solstice 2016 time and date.” I press enter and the page promptly loads displaying a page that clearly says at the top of it, “Winter Solstice is on Wednesday, December 21, 2016 At 5:44 am EST.” It is currently Wednesday, December 21st at 12:18 pm EST.

I should be sleeping right now after staying up all night. I should have covered my windows with blinds, curtains and sheets to keep out the sun. The sun that came up because I stayed up all night with only candles to light my surrounding. My hands should be finally warm after a long brisk journey adventuring outside to see the sun rise from the top of a tree covered hill in the cemetery near my house.

But here I am sitting on a pizza box cursing, “fuck, fuck, fuck!” I didn’t stay up all night. I didn’t wish my friends “happy winter solstice.” I didn’t even know the date or time of Winter Solstice. Why, why, why, why, why!?

Because I am a mom now. Because I suddenly and abruptly have 3 small children. Because I have a house that needs cleaned, clothes that needs washed, dishes that need done, food that needs cooked, mouths that need fed, voices that need to be listened to. I may sometimes call myself their theraputic support staff, other times Clarity’s platonic femme dyke partner, but what I really am is a mom.

I am a mom to 3 kids, I am a partner to Clarity. They drove across this country and the country north of here to be in this city, my city, her city, our city, a place where she hopes to finally feel safe, a place where they are all finally free of his abuse. A first stopping spot where she will raise her kids in a safe environment where they can be who they are and not be mentally or physically abused any more.

And here they are starting to feel safe, starting to explore themselves more, starting to tell us that some of them are girls. Starting to get enough attention and not having to worry about words and fists being thrown. Instead we all are growing into the magical beings we are. And I am here as an essential part of this, part of them all processing what has happened to them. Giving them all the attention and support they need to overcome and finally cure generations of abuse that has happened to these 3 native kids and their amazing mother who has been through more than I can grasp.

Two of the three kids I care for

Two of the three kids I care for

So here I am on winter solstice thinking about how this is a time for reflecting, for staring into the darkness and seeing the sun rise out after 14 hours of darkness. I didn’t reflect on winter solstice, I didn’t even realize it was winter solstice. But here I am watching a family emerge from the darkness, watching myself emerge from the darkness. I may have watched the sun fall or rise, but over the past 3 months and more I have been watching 5 magical beings including myself emerge from darkness. We all been emerging whether it be from an abusive home, a male identity that isn’t ours, a controlling an abusive relationship, a shitty job, shitty friendships, suicidal thoughts, panic attacks and self harm.

We are all emerging from darkness to become powerful beings. And as I stand back and take time to reflect I can feel my chest filling up with strength, puffing out and taking up space in a way I never have before. I can feel my power bubbling up. I can feel my emotions and see others feelings with a new clarity, I can even grasp emotions that I don’t yet have words for. As I lift my arm I feel energy shoot out of it across sidewalk moving the leaves on the ground and shaking the trees. Energy flows from my head to my feet and into the earth as I ground myself on command. I am not just a person anymore, I am a being filled with magic, compassion, anger and love. And on this winter solstice I can’t say I saw the sunrise, or that I stayed up all night by candlelight, I can’t even say I knew when the solstice was. But I can say I am growing, I am reflecting. I am becoming Jenny, I’m not a flighty spaced out tranny who is insecure and unsure of herself. I am a magical being who has powers that few can grasp, call me awakened, call me an indigo child, or call me crazy. But I am Jenny and I move worlds, hear me roar.

How We Fuck

When we walk the streets together
my long blond hair
my lengthy stride
my short skit
We walk with our heads held high
We walk with pride in each step

When we walk the streets together
her flowing black dress
her elegant makeup
her piercing eyes
we walk hand it hand
we walk together a tranny and a dyke

When we walk the streets together
you always turn
you always watch
you always stare
Your stares are all around us
Your stares are suffocating

When we walk the streets together
your eyes pierce
your eyes scrutinize
your eyes struggle to comprehend
Your stares they comes with a question
Your question is so obvious: How do they fuck?

When we fuck there is no gender
no sexual orientation
no male
no female
we fuck like we’re dykes
we fuck like we’re faggots

When we fuck the room is covered
in dirty sex toys
in used condoms
in empty bottles of lube
we fuck and scream and cry
we moan with no regard

When we fuck we don’t think about you
your genders
your sexualities
your norms
we do things you’d never think of
we have orgasms you couldn’t imagine

When we fuck the whole world disappears
all that’s left is me and her
all that’s left are our sex toys
all that’s left is this bed that is our only respite from you
we don’t think of your stares
we don’t think of you at all

When we fuck we are liberated
we are accepted
we are unfettered
we are free
we’re free to be dykes and trannies
we’re free to be us

A Well Overdue Update

Life has been crazy leading to this long overdue update. I’ve had lots of amazing sex, I’ve forceably removed someone from my life, I’ve started taking medication for my mental health, I’ve met a bunch of good people, and I’ve really grown as a person.

Per-usual let’s start at the beginning: My relationship with Half Elegant. She was an frustrating person as I’m sure you’ve come to understand. She was really attracted to me and really boosted my self image. We also had amazing sex, consistently amazing and the first time I’ve had sex since coming to realize I was molested (a huge step). She also constantly harassed me for being honest about my feelings towards her, was quite controlling and very jealous.

We screamed, we yelled, we fought our fights happened over and over again without ever reaching resolution. She would always change the topic, always turn it on me when I tried to talk to her about anything she did. After we broke up the final time she wouldn’t stop harassing me and making me feel bad. I told her I needed space, mainly because I could tell she clearly wasn’t over me. The problem was she didn’t want to get over me. Instead she wanted me back and sent me harassing texts for days. I tried to explain myself but in the end I just had to tell her we would never even be friends. I had to go to the point of blocking her on both facebook messenger and texting.

One of the things that gave me strength in this time was I started being uplifted by medication I was taking. When I started medication I had a hard time getting out of bed in the mornings and started having a hard time going to work at all. I started leaning hard on Half Elegant trying to escape these horrible things. I would have panic attacks in the middle of the day and my only recourse was to hide and curl up on the ground.

My psychiatrist diagnosed me as having mild depression, PTSD, social anxiety, agoraphobia and panic attacks. I started taking sertraline (zoloft) for depression and gabapentin for anxiety. I have slowly increased these doses and and now taking 50mg of sertraline once daily and 300mg of gabapentin 3 times daily. They have helped a huge amount. I feel like a new person, I feel like myself. It’s an astounding feeling when I can just chat with strangers if I want, and get out of bed effortlessly almost every morning. The feeling is strange and freeing. I feel like one of the best versions of myself.

Having medication has really helped me grow a lot and enabled me to really tackle things in therapy instead of day to day stressors. I’ve become way better at staying grounded and present in the moment and now can ground myself in only minutes. I’ve also become able to sit with my anger instead of being scared with it and feel myself making huge steps at coming to terms with things in my life.

I’ve also moved forward in my personal life by making new friends and just being and feeling friendlier than normal. I’m growing a confidence and self respect I’ve never had, I am learning to stand up for myself and to realize how truly powerful I am. I don’t have to play along I can take charge I can run this show. I’m excited to see where the coming months will take me.

Finally I need to touch upon my new friend Clarity. I met her at work and bonded with her instantly. She opened my door at work and asked me where a coworker was. I explained to her where his office was and then she turned to me and asked if there was anything around she could eat. I held out my peanut butter jar she looked at it with anticipation and looked at me and then I laughed and said, “I was just eating out of it with my finger.” I became her ally at work helping her navigate things and have since become her friend and nanny. Talking to her is a breath of fresh air cause she just gets it she is super easy open up to and be real with. She’s also my role model for strong dyke knower who cuts through the bullshit and sees what is real. I can’t wait to learn more about how she navigates the world, and how to slay.

So all in all life is pretty amazing.