The familiar feel of plastic in hands
My fingers and thumbs find there spots
Atop buttons and joysticks
Control slipping into my hands
With a push of a button
My fingers glide across the plastic
I don't even have to look down
And soon enough the plastic melts away
Into a sword
A chain
A spell
My fists
A gun
And all the sudden I'm doing things I never could before
I'm flying
Hacking
Fighting
I can do whatever I like
As the corners of my mouth twitch upwards
At my latest guilty pleasure
I can be whoever I wish to be
I can protect virtual innocents
While having the joy of putting holes in "bad guys"
I'm allowed to blur the line of right and wrong
With no one there to judge me
I can be who I want
When I want
However I want
Until the control is literally ripped away
Plasticky stolen from hands
With no more buttons to press
Sucked back into this "reality"
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryJust some poetry I write about being ftm trans* and other stuff. Some unfinished, others finished. A mix of the good and the bad
