claytonwinter

We walked around the supermarket, collecting safe things as we strolled on through each cluttered aisle. We chattered away like chipmunks, words coated in codes that only we understood. "I've never felt so safe." I hold up pieces people expect to see and remember our wandering. Our late night confessions. Our secrets and moments, that need no explanation. Those secrets that are now stored away. I long for the space you left to be filled once again. "I didn't feel so alone." I could give in to the obsession that lures me back, and not feel so alone within the struggle. It wasn't a solo struggle. Each moment of weakness was met by a similar

I remember when I finally stepped slightly out of myself at the age of sixteen, and saw this very handsome, flamboyant man on television. I didn't understand the feeling I had running through me. I wouldn't understand that feeling until I came out as a man a year later. I'm a transsexual man. I don't want to be arrogant and assume that you don't know what that is, but after six years I'm met with the same response even now – so it's become a habit. A transsexual man is a person who was born physically female, but mentally I'm a queer, flamboyant and fabulously effeminate man (although, the fabulous part depends on the day.) At the age