Waking up with a patient hunger,
Taking my sweet time to think, body heavy from a long sleep,
I put myself together, slowly, silently in the rising sun.
Becoming aware of myself brings a strange new comfort,
A focus without sharpness, and silent sublimities.
Peace, in its few moments, is shockingly sweet.
Pleasure is simpler and easier to accept,
As are my pains, fears, and many other familiar happenings.
I care more for the thought of existing than the person I was ever could,
As though a portion of my emptiness was washed away,
Cleansing away a brutal year into my first transfeminine spring.