My Balloon of Air

She threw all my artwork and poetry down a wishing well Sunday morning.

She said that’s where all the farfetched dreams are supposed to go.

I spent Sunday evening giving all other dreamers fair warnings.

They said it’s dangerous territory, the people and their words- but that they already know.


I have many dreams, some that are simple and easily attained.

Others will send me through great heights of desperation.

But in the end, I measure them as the same.

If I work hard enough and show my effort through trial and error, I won’t wonder over their confrontation.


So to tell me and assume just because it’ll take work, I won’t be able to accomplish it-

I think you’re just persistent in your dream demolition, because you just play it safe.

So it doesn’t bother me; I run and play the field and you eat your popcorn and sit.

At least I know in my heart, my time wasn’t put to waste.

You know your place, and I have several.

And trust me that I respect your opinions.

I admit I need to work up many levels.

To make some lemonade, you have to squeeze lemons.


And you expect that the juice will run in my battle wounds from trying- without anything to show for.

You need to have more confidence in my abilities.

If we’re being honest, you don’t seem to know me anymore.

I don’t know why I continue to call you my family.


You demean my new ideas and my feelings.

I don’t feel comfortable around your presence.

You refuse to hold a balloon of my air, and let it touch the ceiling.

You won’t even allow it to be free of your judgemental habits.


Just let me be outside if you won’t hold me and don’t care where i end up.

I won’t mind, I swear I won’t.

At this point, I believe we’ve both had enough.

And it’s hard for me to revolt against those i love.


It’s not just my dreams either.

It’s me as a person that you don’t accept.

Yes, I’m transgender.

But I’m not out there getting drunk or smoking cigarettes.


I try my best in everything I do.

I avoid things that may possibly inhibit me to go after what I desire in my time here on Earth.

So for my gender identity to be considered the reason I’m askew-

It’s pathetic, because I’ve been this way since birth.


There’s a reason it was called in the closet.

Don’t think you were aware of who I was.

I lied, because I knew how the family is about being honest.

And I don’t give any of you an ounce of my trust.


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