Btw The Thing She Couldn’t Ignore Was Someone Calling Her Out For Saying Anti-depressants/hormone Therapy

yes

I’ve noticed something kind of tragically hilarious.

most trans girls on Tumblr are either running horny blogs, quietly battling clinical depression, or both. Like, the sacred rite of passage seems to be crying in a hoodie that smells like girl sweat and regret… only to pause mid-sob, scroll past some gorgeously drawn or written smut, and casually reblog it with a tag like “me n my gf (manifesting)” before going right back to spiraling.

It’s honestly an entire mood board: chipped nail polish, thighs half-shaved, heart in shambles—but the blog? Impeccably curated with soft porn, cursed memes, and big gay energy.

We're not okay, but at least we’re hot, gay, and terminally online about it. Tumblr’s our little church where we worship by thirsting, crying, and healing in the weirdest, most beautiful ways. Bless this chaotic little girlhood. Amen.

i need to be made out with sloppy style until im breathless..

would you let a pathetic pup like me huff your pits

Gaming Dice.

I learned a lot about edges and light and color relationships here.

A not-so-little secret about me?

I wrestle with apathy and dissociation more often than I'd like to admit. Some days, it’s like I’m watching life through fogged glass, barely present, barely real—but still feeling something. And when I can’t speak that something out loud (which is often), I write. Words become my pulse, the soft way I cry without sound.

Sometimes those feelings come out in tears, sometimes in longing, sometimes in these strange, tender aches I can’t fully name. Maybe it’s the estrogen making me soft and weepy. Maybe it’s the autism making it hard to explain why I care so deeply while seeming like I don’t care at all. Maybe it’s just being a transfem lesbian in a world that doesn't quite know what to do with our kind of magic.

But every time I sit down and spill my sapphic, yearning, overly poetic nonsense into a post, it’s like I’m whispering a little love letter into the void—and hoping someone soft and gentle hears it. Maybe a girl with kind hands and a teasing smile, someone who’ll read my words and want to tuck a stray hair behind my ear while telling me I’m precious, even when I don’t believe it myself.

This is my poetry. These silly, emotional, queer-laced words I scatter online like flower petals. And if you're here, reading them? Thank you. Truly. I hope you feel them the way I meant them. I hope they wrap around you like a warm hug you didn’t know you needed.

And maybe, just maybe, I hope someone sees the girl behind the words—and wants to hold her for a while.

Slime girl that splits herself into two smaller versions of herself so one can ride your face while the other rides your cock (they both moan like whores and it harmonizes every time)

that's tough talk for someone who's chewtoy shaped

I have breaking world changing news;

Human Fish Flakes are just Bacon Bites.

Thank You :3c