what am I?besides being
a tranny bitch
a tranny freak
a shim
a shemale
a heshe
a waste of a perfectly good man
a river too farthat’s what I’m called
by others who other me
everyday each day
over and over
again and again.

and insults and slurs?
they are the costume
they make for me
to comfort themselves
while searching the mirror
and seeing themselves
while trying to get
a handle on me…am i a singer
of this song that spins
out every day
into the ether
right here and then gone?am I a brush
grasped in a hand
waved at the world
leaving some streaks
of texture and color
smeared thick on the day?I think I am words
for they never stop
welling inside me
piled up and pushing
there thru the darkness
under the bright stars
slicing the darkness
with brilliance and beautyi am my words
the brilliant and broken
the loving and least
in total summation
the holy and horrible
here all at once.