A Trans Woman Looks At Herself In The Mirror

Terror.

Blur on a black screen not blank

As if electricity still itches

Under its glass skin

A glossy glimpse of my eyes

I long for a longer time

As I look into my own eyes

I see the wires

Vessels of blood and butchery

Bathing in that black

They anticipate a world beyond my own

When I let go of my life

This is allowed at my house if you know me

You ever been in a state where you physically have no energy, but you're bored and socially understimulated so you kind of wish you could just invite people to come over like this:

Benadrilled

I looked for awnsers on the pyschonaut wiki for symptoms of recreational benadryl use

I have found the awnsers I wasn't seeking. Here in my tired eye I see the human condition, and it is unbearably lonely.

I skirted an empty void like a water bug on a puddle, to me this puddle was an entire ocean

In the Breaking Bad episode "Fly", sandwhiched somewhere almost exactly in the middle of the show, Jesse Pinkman drugs an increasingly volatile and unhinged Walter White to finish a drug cook he was otherwise interfering with.

Though Benadryl is most typically used as perscribed for sleep, it is becoming more widely known in modern times as an OTC recreational drug. Those who take large doses to try and achieve its hallucinegenic effects often have terrible trips, and people have been known to fatally overdose.

Ive personally have never experianced worse depressive episodes then I did hungover from Benadryl. My past abusing otc drugs is a fly in my sobriety from such substances. When I find myself in the clutches of addiction, everything was always contaminated. Nostalgia I think is a yearning for a percieved serenity that doesn't exist. A desire to escape ones own mind that outweighs the pains of drug abuse, a self harm in and of itself.

I never wanted to quit drugs more then when I was in the throws of drugs like DXM and Benadryl. I wallow in this feeling of death with the fear I've lived too long. My body is a rickety ladder on top of boxes on wheels.

I dream of an afterlife, hope as I do for a sign like water...on mars...

Hetero, feather her thou

It's okay, I love you straight boy

You only love a woman that you love

That was always a woman

Cis woman love

It's okay its okay its okay

I love your distracted gaze

When you look away

I can admire your face

Its okay its okay its okay

Dnd roleplay

Erotic roleplay

Still fair game

With the bois I am though boy i am not

I love teasin the boys

Aint so stone cold frozen

When we play you

See me as I see me

So what if im a hoe then

Its okay its okay its okay

Dreamin about your hand

Caressin my face

Like you dont know I was a boy

Just know me as one of the bois

A gurl you wanna whisk away

Its okay its okay

Love you bae <3

A cold icy river

I love these lil guys

Biography

MY ACCOUNT IS 18+ MINORS DNI

"This is not for you"

-Mark Z Danielewski, "House of Leaves"

My name is Dreamgazer, and im 26 years old. I use She/Her and They/Them pronouns. Im also cool with any feminine pronouns you might know. I'm a Non Binary Trans Woman. I'm on the AuDHD spectrum. I started this blog because I've been passionate about writing my whole life. I felt it was time to put my work out there again publically, and see what people think. This is your blanket trigger warning for my blog, because I will not individually label each post for potential triggers. Some topics I might write about may be controversial, but judging by the rest of Tumblr I'm actually fairly mild. Feel free to ask me anything or request poetry. You can private message me if your interested in commissioning me for editing or writing, but poems are free. If you've read this far and you like my writing please consider commenting or rebloging. Feedback is important for me to improve at my job, and is always appreciated. Thank you for reading. :)

-I disagree with Radqueers and Conservatives personally but im open to civil dialouge with either.

-This blog is a safe space for LGBTQIA+ and allies. I also have zero tolerance for hate against people for being cis/straight.

Waiting

Boredom is a drum

I hum

Trum trum trum

Boredom is a clock

I tick

Tik tik tik

Boredom is an air vent

Breathing belabored

Under my own weight

Under the weight of air

Looking down at my phone

My view obscured by hair

Where where where

Am I?

Black Tape

I saw her in my favorite film, locked away in locks of black tape, tied and spun unspun, she comes undone and back again.

She is a VHS tape, or the film on that tape, or perhaps the reel on the wheel, perhaps her heart the mysterious motor as equally unknown to me as the human heart.

Maybe she's her eye on the screen, magnetic gaze on a magnetic image, the magnitute of all those pixels buzzes like an earthquake far away...

I seek her in my memory but my memorys go by too fast, im rewinding the tape. I wear her memory as she wears me with her look, undressing whatever it is that makes me me so that she can be me.

I must see her in my dreams but i forget. I wake up on a pile of black tape, sometimes wishing she could tie me up in it. Tie me in knots and spin her web till im but a mummy, ready to sleep forever and never forget my dreams again...

I adopted this oc through an art trade a while ago. I forgot to show it off here. I dont have a name for her yet.

I wish I had gotten her name I feel bad to change her name if she already had one.

(I have no idea what the words say I dont speak Russian)