Tuesday 13 December 2016

November 30. 2016 (December 13, 2016)

The age of six
I have been told
To suck it up.

It came
To strong emotions.

My angry outburst
During therapy
Shocked and angered

Feeling like
I'm a failure
For releasing 
This negative emotion.

As guilt 
And anger
Filled me.

In breaking
A taboo
I need removed
From my life.

And yet
It scares me
To do so.

Will be forced
To face life
Without this filter.

In all
Of it's rawness
And intensity.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Not sure, if I should call this, a breakthrough session, in allowing some of my suppressed anger, to release, in a safe and controlled manner. In the past, people have reacted surprised, when I have let my anger loose. As if, they expect me, to not have any anger, within me, because I am slow to release it. 

Wednesday 7 December 2016

Upon The Front Lines (December 7, 2016)

My soul
Is the battleground
Upon which
A war is 
Being waged.

Among multiple fronts
For control.

Every exploding shell
Renders my soulscape
Into a thousand 
Jagged piercing shards.

Each front
A different element
Of my universe
Bursting forth
Into thick acrid smoke.

To choke
My existence

A battle weary soldier
My soul seeks
A permanent ceasefire
Ending all hostilities.

An unilateral surrender
Is tantamount to
A death sentence
For me.

I'm not prepare
To face
Just yet.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: A metaphor for how I am feeling right now.

Wednesday 30 November 2016

Naivety's Price (November 26, 2016)

Society talks
About love. 

As if
It was a hyperbole
Of our souls.

In telling children
We will always 
Love them.

No matter 

And yet
For many children
They have nothing left.

This flimsy claim
To hang onto. 

As they're tortured
And abused
At the hands
Of their parents.

Only guilty 
Of being born

The wrong gender
Or sexuality.

All the while
Being told
Their punishment is
A sign of love.

Blaming themselves
For not being 
Good enough.

Or should have
Done things
Only differently
The first time.

The real fault lies
With the adults.

Leaving the child
To pay
The most horrible price
Their life.

Therisa © 2016

Monday 21 November 2016

Untitled (June 24, 2016)

Each passing second
My soul dies
A small death.

Words are replaced
By a flooded soulscape
Meters deep
In tears.

Internalized anger
Builds up
Consuming all.

A black hole
Only remains

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Wrote this micro poem, on the TTC Rte #23 bus, heading towards the Main St subway station, for my Friday afternoon art program.

Saturday 19 November 2016

On The Edge Of Tears (November 19, 2016)

We look
At the future
With rose coloured

Of an emerging world
Filled with love
And compassion.

Our past is
One filled
With extreme prejudice
And violence.

For too many
Of our brothers
And sisters
Have paid
In their lives.

At the hands 
Of family members
Or complete strangers.

I know
All too well.

Having experienced
Traumatic events
From both.

Costing me
My life.

Sitting here
Fighting back
The tears.

To unleash
An emotional tsunami
Upon my soul. 

Tomorrow is
November 20th
Day of Trans-Remembrance.

My community
Remembers those
Were murdered.

Or driven
To their deaths.

It's the last time
We must gather
And read off 
New names.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Around the world, the Trans-community will be observing Day of Trans-Remembrance, on November 20th, for our brothers and sisters, who died, at the hands of others. In Toronto, The 519 will marking this event, from 4-8 pm, at 519 Church St., Toronto, Ontario.

Tuesday 15 November 2016

Falling Downwards (November 1, 2016)

My eyes are 
Becoming bleary
As the tears
Roll down.

Of guilt and shame
Wrack my soul.

As memories
Stream forth
Of another time
And place.

I found myself
Praying for death.

Despising myself
For being 
A freak.

Thoughts of death
Flood my mind
As everything
Become a weapon
To me.

Just wanting
The pain
To end.

By any means

Even now
Should Death 
Embrace my body
I won't fight Her.

Just want my pain
To be over.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Before the age of 12 years old, I have attempted suicide, several times, but failed, for various reasons. I haven't felt this down, hopeless and depressed, since the 2010/11 holiday season, when I made my last attempt. November, next to July (my second hardest), is the hardest month, emotionally, for me. Right now, I wish, I had my dad, to cry in his broad shoulders, and have him. give me, the emotional support, unconditionally. Something, my mom has never been able to do,

Friday 11 November 2016

In A Trump World (November 11, 2016)

Judgment Day
Has come
And gone
For the United States.

Reality is
Sinking in
For the world.

As reaction
To Trump's election
Spreads forth
At light speed.

Many people

Of election promises
Reverberate down
Empty corridors.

Hate-filled words
Leaves it mark
On a scared people.

Seeing enemies
In every corner
Of the world.

As they walk
Down this path
Their hearts filled
With despair 
And rage.

Where fiction
Becomes reality.

A sober second thought
Or logic
To the arguments.

Marking life
For the next 4 years
On this planet.

Therisa © 2016

Tuesday 1 November 2016

Breaking Away (November 1, 2016)

If April is
The month of showers
And May

November is
The month of tears.

I say this
As storm clouds 

A time of death
And rebirth.

Of family lost
And a soul
That's reclaimed
From the dead.

As the healing process
Works its way
Through me.

The transition period
From light to dark
And back

To let the pain
Claim me
As another victim
Of hate.

As it has
For too many year
In my life.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Today is, an anniversary date for me, which 3 years ago, I broke off my last contact with my abusive mom. Thus, cutting off, all contact with my biological family. At the time, I had asked her, if it was possible for her, to get my birthday and Christmas gift, at the same time, as the country roads to her home, can become unsafe, from November until April, due to snow. For I had asked her, for help on buying a new winter jacket, for myself. Needless to say, she found countless excuses, why she couldn't help me, when I rarely ask for anything, from me. After hearing her last excuse, I told her, to sod off and want nothing more, to do with her, in my life. 

Am so tired, of having to fight anxiety attacks, playing by her restrictive rules, whenever I want/or need to contact her, of seeing her eyes filled with fear, which she denies. Her refusal to entry my apartment, as if, I have bedbugs, inside. Generally, being treated, as a childish family member, one can barely tolerate, at the best of times. Who needs, all aspects of their live, to be controlled, by an "adult". As if, I was mentally unable to look, after myself.

Friday 28 October 2016

Dark Side Of Hallowe'en (October 27, 2016)

See you
Prancing around
Like it is
A huge joke.

In wearing
Those cheap 
Halloween wigs.

Taking selfies
To post
On your Facebook 

Saddened me
To my soul's core.

I know
You'll never understand
Why I am feeling 
This way.

For you
It's a one time 


For people
Like myself
It's a lifetime

It's blazing
A different path
That society
Is reluctantly slow
In accepting.

Having experienced
First hand
The darker side
Of humanity
And trans-bashing.

Until like
Those reality shows
On the TV.

Only showing
The lighter side.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Yesterday (October 27, 2016), the local public library branch held a puppet show, for the kids, which, afterwards, three teenagers goofed around, with the wigs and taking selfies. Wanted to say something, but was scared, I would be labelled, as oversensitive, for my reactions to these teens. I know, they meant nothing, but it still hurt.

Wednesday 26 October 2016

Beyond The Pale (October 26, 2016) Inbox x

How can you
Be objective
In judging me?

When you don't know
Who I am
Or the experience
I have lived.

And yet
You sit
In absolute judgement
Condemning me
On sight

Having never uttered
A single word
To you.

Tell me
Where is
Your impartiality?

To you
I am 
An offending piece
Of human flesh
That's condemned
To Hell.


For challenging
Your notion
On what gender
And sexuality

In defiling
What the "Holy Book" says
Is acceptable
For society.

Thing is
I don't believe
In this Book.

Or those
Who wrote it.

Sad part is
Your very actions
Goes against
The holy Book

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Its interesting, how it's those, who protested the loudest, are the ones, who are guilty of the crime, they claim others are committing against them.And for the record, I have experience this reaction, several times, from total strangers, re-inforcing my feelings, for not following one of the three major religions.

Monday 24 October 2016

An Autumn Memory (October 24, 2016)

The asphalt canyons
A cold wind blows.

With it
A hint of winter
And the coming snow.

As brilliant hued leaves
Of various shapes
And sizes
Release their grip
From trees.

Swirling around
In soft eddies
Before landing
At one's feet.

Like Mother Nature's
Own organic confetti
Littering sidewalks
And streets.

Raking leaves
Into huge piles
By laughing kids
As they jumped onto.

They toss
Giant handful
Into air.

Covering them
Like falling snow.

They stuff
Large paper bags
By the curbside
For pick-up.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: A childhood memory.

Saturday 22 October 2016

A Time Of Healing And Sorrow (October 22, 2016)

At least
For the time being
Are the fall rainstorms.

The past 72 hours
Has been nourishing
A land.

Long parched
From a hot
And very humid

The land cries out
"Thank you".

My soul
Starts to whither
Under these cascading

Reaching out
In desperation
For the golden rays
Of the sun
Upon it.

Each passing day
A small part dies
In the growing darkness
Of Fall and Winter.

Spring's arrival
With the longer days
Of light and warmth
Upon my soul.

Until then
By any means.

As SAD digs
Its ruthless talons
Tainted by
A merciless depression
Into my soul.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: During my first year (1990), at Carleton University, in Ottawa, Ontario, I suffered my first noticeable case of seasonal adjustment disorder (SAD), Starting, in late September and ending, in November, it was constantly raining. In October, it felt like every day, was rainy. Until this past year, I haven't talked about walking, beside the Rideau Canal, and have thoughts about jumping into winterized passage, with about 50 cm of water, at the bottom, from a height of 6 meters. 

Sadly, when I did approach staff for help, at Carleton University, it was dismissed, as me, being homesick, and not SAD, or would later find out, chronic depression. Until 2006, I didn't seek out any help for my silent struggle with mental illness. Since then, I have tried 8 different anti-depressant/anxiety medications, with varying degrees of success. Most of these drugs, I had to stop, as the result of brutal side effects that has forced my own doctor to have me, evaluated by psychiatrists, before prescribing any new med.  

Friday 21 October 2016

October's Tears (October 21, 2016)

That time
Of the year
Is fast approaching
For me.

And season darkness
Claims me.

As I sink
Into a downward spiral
Of pain and sadness.

The beginning
Of my SAD season
Until January.

It clears up

I could say
Death doesn't play
A huge part
In my life.

It does.

As the raindrops
From a mid-October storm
Bathe my face
In wetness.

The tears
From everyone's

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: It's 10 days, before Halloween, and the fall rains have started, in part of the Great Lakes basin, stopping, only when the rain turns to snow, some time, in November/December. The 10 days from November 11th (Remembrance Day) to 20th (Day Of Trans-Remembrance), are about the darkness days, of the calendar, for me. With November 15th, being the anniversary date of my dad's death, in 1998. Also, the anniversary date of my self-acceptance of who I am, Therisa, in 2005, As I stood over, my dad's grave, crying, on a very mid-November day, when I realized, an inner true that I have been suppressing, since August 1977, I am female.

Wednesday 19 October 2016

Plead For Peace (September 28, 2016)

Am so tired
Of this constant battle
I was wage
On a daily basis.

Just once
I wish You
My Goddess
Could grant me
True peace
For my ravage soul.

I may know
What true tranquillity
Is like.

My journey is
Finally over
On this mortal coil.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Written, after another brutal night of broken sleep.

Saturday 15 October 2016

From Meaning, To Reality (October 4, 2016)

Is not
Just a word.

A human right.

To live your life
Without terror
Or fear.

Go to school
Without being abused
In any form.

To walk
Outside your home
Without being attacked
Or killed.

Freedom is
A wishful dream
For many transpeople.

As we gather
On November 20th
To remember those
Who were killed.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: This poem was inspired by, the title, of a young adult book, Freedom's Just Another Word, standing in display, at my local library. 

Thursday 13 October 2016

To Wish Impossible Dreams (October 13, 2016)

There are days
Like this
That I feel like
A total fraud.

As if
My very existence
Is an outright lie.

No matter
What I do.

Feeling like
I'm stuck
In those dark 
And violent days
Of my childhood.

To hide away
In the deepest corner
Of my apartment.

The little girl
I feel like
Right now.

I don't have
Dad's strong arms
To wrap me
In a supportive hug.

The type
He shared
Growing up.

Just once
I wish
For one 
Of those hugs.

For my tears 
To flow
Upon his shoulders.

Holding my daemons
For another day.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: This November 15th, will mark the 18th anniversary of my dad's death, from a fatal heart attack, on November 13th. And I find myself, missing him, more than ever, as he tried to encourage me, even though, he didn't understand the needs, I had, as a child, growing up, being ashamed of my need, to be female. 

Featured post

Chance Encounter (March 13, 2017)

July 21, 2006. A date Forever etched Into my memory. As if Done by A laser. By mistake And pure chance. I enter...