This is about the feeling of seeing myself for the first time. It’s hard to explain to a cis person, but give it a listen and I hope it helps.



I also explain how I’ve been a dumb-dumb, writing my sonnets all wrong, but with a silver lining! And give you two sonnets this week, and this time they are in actual iambic pentameter.







The weight of hubris hit me hard today.So proud I’ve been of sonnets writ by me,They flow like rivers, brighten up my day,And to my mind the lines all perfect be.



So why then with this brilliant mind of mine,Could I have failed to spot a hole so dark?A glaring cavity in every line,Enpov’rished five where robber left his mark.



But why should four be wallowing in shame?Though, Venus shines with beauty, this be true,The test of time she stood and earned her name.Does she leave room for other virtues too?



Methinks that beauty’s heart be good and kind,To let her little sister also shine.



Ingalill’s sonnet, To the dead;Oh spirit with thy presence do me grace,Fulfill’d thy path has been from dust to dust,For kings and lords and beggars, all do faceThe very same fate as the rest of us.



But here among us still thy spirit be,Held back by sorrow, vengence or regret,Thy last breath drawn but still thee do not seeGod’s holy grace or devil’s fire yet.



The living in this room are asking forThy voice to reach across that dreaded line,So speak now friend, again, and live once more,The beating heart within this breast be thine.



Now to my flesh and blood I give thee lease,I beg, good soul, be gentle with it please.

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