Trans-(z)Cen-Dance

Trans-cen-dance

Not transitioning anywhere.

Being born in my own womb,

To a childless, timeless self.

Sat silently, oftentimes, shaking.

Anguish became me, forgotten.

Ridiculed in flat liners hymns,

Brooders colar bones shrug.

Carelessness’s clumsy climate,

Taught to disassociate both.

Flitting, flirt to sexless whore.

Transcendence in following,

As meditation, a lonely solicitor,

Brokered simply solitudes sin.

Encouraging apathetic safety.

Softly in silence, slumber ends.

Attempting squeezes confines,

Tried cleaving off corners,

Flesh wounds heavenly peace,

Didn’t assist in fitting the pipe,

It’s conduit for a mass circling.

Insider home, where no stares,

Jolt the dream that never came.

The womb i wasn’t gifted,

Entombed me, irrespective of,

Vigour harboured only alone.

Abuse raining from passers by,

Scant rationale as to why,

“What is it” ranges randomly,

“You have it all” a commonality.

Deafening, becoming zeroed.

Gooses say boo, ganders pass,

Cretinous road mending bias,

Bolshier attacks hurt less than,

I can inflict injury personally.

Pipework, meat and sinuous.

Hybrid I am. rose and nettle.

Scented with stingers rage.

Poison of a fragrant frond.

Otherworldly human-kind.

learnedly, the pasts behind.