My muscles are stiff. They provide a solid foundation for the water to freeze around. There is no use in breaking the ice. I feel bad for doing the things I love. Radiated warmth is just enough to break a sweat. Each drop against the hardwood echoes like the ghosts who lived here before. All energy is diverted to the heart. I close my eyes, but my dreams are absent. Why are my eyelids brighter than this room?
YOU ARE READING
Transformation '23
PoetryPoetry collection from a trans woman. It will be continuously updated until the end of the year. Not all these poems will discuss my gender identity. However, my newfound womanhood, happiness, and curiosity shape both who I am as a person and how I...
