Gender/Sexuality

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In the quiet of my closet I speak And the words sound more like a cry for help A plea for escape Or at least for someone to turn the lights on  
The stars spell your name in a thousand love letters, as we're hand in hand whispering secrets in the dark.  You bring sunshine on a rainy day with your laughter, drying my tears with a kiss.
*Chapter1*I stood still,Never thought of being' shaken, taken for, coz love was granted.
I’m going to tell you a story But bare with me Because it’s one I’ve heard so many times That the chapters bleed together  
The washerwoman turns to me and asks,“Did you hear about Damalis?”Our hands dip into the cool river waters,Cold linen draped along our slipping skin.
They say       “God doesn't make mistakes” as a way of telling us we're wrong for wanting – No – For needing to be ourselves.   It's not a mistake that I'm transgender. How could it be a mistake
 Her fingertips like magic, Sending sparks through my body. I close my eyes and imagine my hair wrapped around her fingers,
I don’t know if these feelings are right or wrong, but is anything right or wrong. We go through life-fighting; fighting for love, fighting our fears.
She's beautiful but not in the traditional sense She is beautiful like when lightning strikes the sky for the sky's wrong doings She is beautiful in the way beetles exoskeletons are
How do I even explain how I feel? The butterflies, the nervousness, and all other clichés . You understand me and how my crazy mind works.
My brother in arms Battles against the world, himself, And me. His entire family.   My brother in arms, An encyclopedia who seems to know the entire world— And everything throughout—
I go walking down the street in my local town, just like you. I catch the same bus to go to work everyday, just like you. I browse some shops and buy food to provide for myself, just like you.
Ask 90% of the people that know me who I am, and they’ll tell you- She’s a writer, She’s a scholar, She’s a daughter, a sister, An animal lover,  
Life's not always easy. Most people have it pretty touch, But with my future so near in sight, And I have no shame. I can smile through the pain. My fingers hit those metal strings,
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