A Little Piece Of Me Dies Each Day
Each day I shave my face a little piece of me dies each day. I feel a pain in my soul. When I am getting dressed in the morning and I put on men's cotton bikini briefs instead of cute purple boy shorts, a piece of me dies. My soul starts to wilt when I spray on Dolce & Gabbana blue, instead of Marc Jacobs Daisy. When I look across the closet and see my wife's leggings and short purple dress, while I have to wear slacks and a Polo I die just a little. I slowly fade when my 16 year old bravely comes out of his closet and says he is gay, but I cowardly have hidden in my closet for over 30 years. I am forced to cry on the inside when me and my wife watch Steel Magnolias because my girl self gets emotional at the thought losing a child. I die just a little when I look in the mirror and see Brenda Karen looking back at me begging to be set free from the male prison she is trapped in. A piece of me dies when someone makes a sexual fetish comment when I post something about transgender on another site. My soul aches when I hear that key enter the lock in the door and I worry that I didn't put all of her Clothing in the place or remove all of the makeup off of my face. My heart aches when I hear the cry of my infant niece and I can't nurture her like the woman I am inside. My soul aches as I walk.past the Mac cosmetic section in the mall seeing the women makeup artist knowing I could do it but walking on to sell cell phones. I am afraid that as my heart and soul dies I wont have anything left. I am afraid that my life on this rock hurtling through space will end in the same male suit I started with. I can't let Brenda live like this. I have to free her. Sorry to be such a downer tonight ladies, I feel like whit. I am going to sleep now, hopefully everything will be sunshine and daffodils when I wake. Goodnight ladies.