False feelings dripped like tar from my mouth
Pooling into the pit I stood within
Until I drowned in my own words
To be reborn and stripped of befouled flesh
Naked and hideous in the cold I now stand
Burning to death for warm comfort
In protective isolation from bucketfuls of ice water
Poured upon my dreams
Waiting wet and shivering for the sunrise of Spring
Growing a coat of moss while beetles climb
And slugs slide about
Standing in my truth
That few care to hear
Pouring from my mouth
Like a crystal clear cataract
Threatening to drown me

©Heather Coldstream


About cistotrans

A Seattle-area trans woman seeking a happy spot to stay at along the path of transition.
This entry was posted in poem, Poetry, transgender and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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