andddddddddd, I missed a bit.

No I did not care about how good I looked as a male. I never have been in the good looks brigade. Though, I confess, as a woman I wish I looked better in honesty. Anyway, I don't. It mattered not then but it does now. Makes no difference anyhow. I'm stuck with what I have.

If this helps at all. I would sooner be an ugly woman living the life I do than a handsome man who is rich with all the trappings of success. If I were a rich handsome man I would use the money to have the same surgery I have had plus have my face done too! I doubt I would stay in a male role for long.

This is who I am. This is me.

another poem

Crazy

Thoughts of turmoil sounding loud inside of my head
Wrestling upsets and confusions as I lie in bed
Inside out and outside in, thoughts rising up and down
Heart a pounding, racing ever more, but no-one hears a sound

My private world of chaos turning, turning every way
East and West, South and North, spinning every day
Try to grasp a single strand, one thing at a time
Deciphering all that's going on, within this world of mine

A messy whirlwind of increasing tides
Overhead and over sides
Where does it end? Where does it start?
Inside my head? Inside my heart?

Sounds of fear and of alarm
Will there be storms or there be calm?
Every day and every night
Have I got the strength to fight?

Sometimes it's all too much to take
But carry on I must, to make
A life where fears are overcome
To find a place I feel at home

anon