my heart is on fire.

he's tired of tears
of the fears
tired of hiding
of being silent.
slowly breaking his back,
the secrets 
he needs to tell
someone,
anyone. 
opening his mouth
nothing
it sticks in his throat
numb,
dumb
he cannot breathe.
he is not a she
he doesn't quite fit
yet
it's closer
than the ze,
the they,
the sounds
of their judgement.
his pronoun: is
he can just be
be human
be alive
be.

the human, when rejecting female, resorts to male. that does not always mean that male is right for that being, just what is left in the temporary uncomfortableness with the female side of human, until the chains are broken. the chains, the boxes, the looks given, writing FEMALE across the being's forehead at every chance given. and they wince, understanding the look, praying for a mistake, living under the lie. male and female, such ugly words, such branded meanings. the rejection of both leads to something more, something pure, something the human can actually feel.

he doesn't want to feel the empty anymore, can't take the way it tears at his heart. so awkward, shuffling around. just another face in another place trying to make it somehow. the sweet tinge of the new day going sour, losing by the second, he chases after it until there is none left. he breathes and smiles, another piece. each bruise is an adventure, the only matter is how they got there and if they made it alive. 

<3 <3