Let them say what needs be said.
My rails are built, all ties, all spokes
Each mile laid into further dread
driving forward, the path still smokes
Were I to wander through the night
Felt freedom loose in moon-lit air
that I could ever choose my sight
Locked ever forward my face shall bare.
When even back is forward still
progress made, my load to carry
Up, up, up some broken hill
my back is bowed, broke if I tarry.
Longing for release of weight
decoupling, sweet relief, no!
Journeys end a lie, more freight,
backwards moving, forward go.
Burdens I have never sought
Assigned to me by those long gone
Scars upon my bared face wrought
With knives so cruel and ever long.
That I could drop such bounty
Move e’er forward without shame
towards the glory of Libertas’ county
birth-right held by those named same
That my time could be discordant
filled with terrors, tortured soul
twisted to and fro, abhorrent
my life to live, each day a toll.
My rails are set, my path is clear
to heave and struggle without cry
lest those that frolic face any fear.
My burden silent, until I die.
Confessions of a Trans Professional 