i wrote these high off my ass while my internet was out be nice please lol
picture a scene by a forest river; there is one young tree right on the riverbank, roots dipping in. that tree is my gender. it's a young tree, because i am a young person. the trunk of the tree, nourished by the Gender Fluid rushing through the river, is formed of transsexual manhood. recently, however, this young tree's trunk has grown a new, large branch; womanhood, of the kind that can only exist in the context of the tree's trunk.
the tree is in winter, missing its leaves. my hair is too short, i do not currently have the means to present how i'd like or wear clothes i enjoy. but the tree is weathering until its spring, when i can start to feel like myself again.
i won't know what its leaves will look like until the spring. they could be a rich metallic wine-burgundy and grow thick with wicked thorns and beautiful flowers, or perhaps a shining gallery of jewel tones that project stained glass lights onto the river below. or maybe i'll be content describing it as one regular green tree, surrounded closely by fellow trees and woodland creatures, once i can contextualize myself within reality again.
the river, as its only previous description would imply, is changeable. the Gender Fluid is possibility. it runs so black you can only see the stars rushing through it and it runs red full only with blood and sometimes it's blue like fantasy art and you stick your hand in and the current sparkles in gold and silver particles around your fingers and sometimes it's just sweet liquid gold.
...have neatly bobbed and freshly clean bottle-blonde hair, brown roots showing just a bit, going down to, i dunno, let's say my chin. my bi heart dangle earrings are in, obviously; can't leave the house without them. that choker thing, you know, the loopy ones you saw everywhere back in maybe 2014, is around my neck. maybe by now i have that septum piercing i've wanted for so long. my chest is flat and i have on some pink thing-i imagine that pink crop top looks nice on me, but if it turns out it doesn't, i'll cut something else into one if i need to. the details get less specific here, it's not important. maybe i wear a black skirt and smudge on black eyeshadow and add some to my waterline like eyeliner to match, maybe i wear real short jean shorts. i have hope i won't live in this cocoon much longer.
...have long, long hair-bright red or blonde or natural again, i'm not picky here-that swishes rhythmically over my black leather jacket as i walk, thin red tank top and short black shorts and cherry-vanilla perfume on. i have a real collar now. my features have been lovingly worn into with time and comfort, i'm older and my imagination grows broader with possibilities. maybe my body is adorned with a zoo of animal tattoos, a snake down my arm, a peacock down my torso, a butterfly on my neck. maybe i decide i love piercings. maybe i lean into leather, or goth. i hope i do "real drag" by then, and have community i can connect fully to. and... well, maybe i'm on the arm of a big, sweet butch, if i really dare to dream.