flowersfromlaw

[flowersfromlaw]

i pick my scabs because i can’t move on

i linger on my mistakes and repeat them, over and over again

i think i pick at them because i want to hurt a second time

i deserve to feel it once more

like a wounded animal that knows not how to do anything but lie still on the mountain road.

l.a.w.

[flowersfromlaw]

subjection to joy

"i’m wrought with an ugly jealousy

tearing away my exposed, rotting flesh

slashing at the gnarled strings of my earthly attachments

extinguishing my few remaining hopes

withering me away.

i cannot subject myself to the joy of others any longer."

l.a.w.

[flowersfromlaw]

there’s this part of me, of my soul, that hasn’t quite seen the light of day.

i watch it rise to the surface in these moments: the ones that scream boyhood.

it’s running up the side of a wall,

spray painting in a ditch.

throwing rocks, finding sticks,

being grown up middle school boys.

i am one of them.

now, i get to experience what i never truly could as my former self.

this is what it was meant to be.

i get to experience it all.

l.a.w.

[flowersfromlaw]

“i am glad that i didn’t realize i was trans until i was an adult.”

this is something i’ve always believed to be true.

after all, i’m glad that a younger me didn’t have to grapple with the gender dysphoria i’ve become well-acquainted with in recent years.

the way i see it, the understanding that my mind is at war with my body is far easier to stomach as an adult.

in spite of this knowledge, i recognize that glad isn't the word i would use.

rather, i’m grateful that i did not have to experience the psychological torture of being a trans child under my parents’ roof.

it was no mistake that my brain shielded me from this inherent misalignment during my adolescence; it was by design.

i was not yet prepared for my world to falter,

nor was i prepared for the unraveling of my identity that followed.

the weight of this burden is something i can shoulder now —

it most certainly would have crushed him.

l.a.w.