isn’t it strange how crossing your body parts signals different messages?

fingers crossed? you’re hoping

arms crossed? you’re unhappy; guarded

legs crossed? well that’s just a position

being a closeted trans person is like being spiderman, except you’re not saving the day and you’re only hiding your identity because the world is cruel

despite it all i love being trans

Kaiji but all the games are Wordle

these bruises on my thighs
caused by caring lashes
first brought an endorphin high

time after its event proceeds
the rush is gone
epidermal damage now soothe a need

these thoughtful writings onto my skin
a reminder of another’s love
what will be and what has been

what if i can’t write

novels, poems, soliloquies, nor prose?

would i still enjoy writing

who knows

-

the syllable count won’t be consistent

nor will the rhyming scheme

watch what happens when i slim

it