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Chemically
These weren’t meant to be read
I was going to sing them,
I was made to sing,
More than I was made to write
The gods, with my thread wove a poet
The thread, the voice of an angel
I had plenty of warning,
Plenty of time,
I allowed myself to unravel.
I dropped the thread:
My voice.
I allowed myself to be unmade
Chemically.
This poem suffers for it,
A mere shadow of the song,
The song that the universe is singing,
Singing so only I can hear
The melody, my holy burden,
Muted, shriveled by my cowardice.
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This poem is about my failure to confront my feelings about my gender, which resulted in me being “too late” to transition. When my voice dropped, I effectively gave up on my future of writing and singing the songs in my head, and deprived the rest of the world of them.