When I cum,

I cover my mouth and I'm quiet

Even when I'm alone

I try to look pretty

when I cum

even if I don't feel pretty...and lucky

for me

This isn't a pretty story

I know how sick some of you are about pretty “girls”

getting up on a soapbox with tragedy on their tongue

This isn't un-pretty like that

This is just a simple story about coming to terms with my cunt and my tits

and everything that goes with a queer soul in such a body

I know, words like Cunt and Tit and Queer are blunt and unpalatable

but such is my story.

It's not easy coasting. These words

are an honest lovechild of the prefixes andro- and


of my

own empty womb and an invisible gloved hand



I've spent a couple months facing the toilet

and questioning whether or not I had

the cones to stick my fingers down my throat

and clean myself out

mostly I didn't

once or twice I did

I've spent even longer wondering if I had the courage

to crawl inside my skin

and claw my way out

the answer to that was usually yes.

So now that I'm spending less time in the bathroom

and more time in the living room

This is my story

and perhaps

in the end

a loveletter

to my biology.

The End

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