TW: Alcohol, Depression, Transphobia

My body is a temple, or 
at least that’s what I used 

to think. Anxiety over poison
disappeared with my patience, 

I don’t need it to feel numb,
but I like the way it tastes

Bitter, and hides in my bloodstream
Like I hide from my problems
Like I hide from her illness
Like I hide from his pain
Like I hide from his 

Embrace. What would he have done
If I hadn’t been there

And even though I’m not there 
for myself

He looks up to me and asks 
his future as if my word was gospel 

I’m unable to clock out because 
I smiled 

for too long and dried out my concrete face
But someone has taken this body like a sculptor

And carved meaning from the cracks
And shown me the beauty hiding underneath

She was able to turn herself 
from stone to mud

So I became clay
And was determined to rebuild
my temple

Context:
My younger brother and I are both trans. Our parents are tolerant but kinda pretend we’re not trans, or at least, seem to think that we can play the part of their son and daughter for their sake while we’re at home. I went a couple years without really getting to talk to my brother much, and only learned this year that he was also trans, since he spends most of his time at home, while I spend most of my time away from home, partially because I try to hide from difficult conversations and want to avoid conflict. I haven’t been entirely kind to my body, and I am far more concerned about my weight than I should be. I used to be a very religious kid, and also had an incredibly strong aversion to alcohol, since my grandfather is an awful person, and an alcoholic, I didn’t want to become like him. However, this year, I started to get over this aversion, only to find that the effects of alcohol weren’t all that different from how I feel usually, especially with the sleep deprivation factored in. It’s hard to feel emotions, and the only thing I really have is the constant happiness I perform for the sake of: my dad who is under enormous mental and physical stress from his job, my mom since her illness may become chronic, and my brother so he can see a future for himself. The emotional labor of essentially acting happy 24/7 is exhausting, and when I finally get a break, I’m too used to performing to stop. My partner is my inspiration, because she has struggled with similar problems in her life. I was with her as she found a way to make it all bearable over the course of years. She always makes sure to remind me of my worth, and when I’m with her, it’s almost as if the numbness goes away. She helps me feel good about my body, and it’s especially appreciated during this time of my life where I feel like I have little control, and I’m unable to physically transition. I look forward to the day that I’m able to shape my own body, but until then, I’ll try to stay positive, for my own sake, and for those I love, who depend on me.