Collection of Poems

Forbidden Blade

I can't seem to put my hand on the blade.
I's as if something's stopping me, but I have no idea what that would be.
Would it be you Death? Could you let me know if it's you?
Maybe I could trick Death into thinking I'm not going to grab it.

That way I could grab the blade and try.
But knowing Death, it's not possible to trick him.
Why couldn't I just have been born normal?
If only I had been born normal, I wouldn't be feeling this way.

Can't continue doing this if all I'm thinking of is putting my hand on the forbidden blade.
Why must I feel this way?
Feeling like a failure and a freak.
But why?

All I want to do is rip my chest off with my bare hands.
Or grab the forbidden blade and cut off my chest.
Or stab at my genitilia.
I can't keep going on feeling like this all the damn time.

People who call me "she" are part of why I have anxiety.
When I see my birth name, it triggers my depression.
It feels like I'm screaming loudly, yet nobody can hear.
But I'm gonna continue fighting everyday against it all.