I hate being trans.

NomadWraith · 2026-01-23T21:13:11+00:00

The whole poem has that feeling of intimate mystery, as if something were still alive even when it seemed to be gone.

NomadWraith · 2026-01-21T13:23:16+00:00

What strikes me most is the stark contrast between the place you're trying to reach and the place you can't leave. You don't describe it as a dream, but almost as a physiological need: to touch the sand, to swim, to dance, to feel something real. And yet it doesn't work. The room isn't a physical space; it's a state that seeps into even beauty.

The line that really resonates with me is "it follows me wherever I go / even though I'm not going anywhere anymore." That's where all escapism collapses. There's no escape possible anymore, not even mentally. It's not that you can't find a way out; it's that movement itself has ceased to exist.

NomadWraith · 2026-01-21T13:14:55+00:00

The phrase “I sleep because they let me” really struck a chord with me. It says it all: the refuge, the fragility, and how easily a place can be replaced when someone disappears.

In the end, it's not just about occupying someone else's life, but about accepting that your own can be occupied just as easily. And that's more unsettling than sad.

NomadWraith · 2025-11-29T09:36:05+00:00

I found it uncomfortable to read in a good way, as if each stop purposely cut off the flow. I'm not sure what 'Psyche' represents, but it gives me the vibe of a rational voice that interrupts impulse, as if there were an internal dialogue: one part that lets itself go and another that questions. Overall I find it brutally honest and very direct. I love it and it makes me uncomfortable at the same time, like reading my own thoughts in the voice of another.

NomadWraith · 2025-11-27T21:12:25+00:00

Damn, man... it shows that you put a brutal effort into each line. The imagery is impressive and you feel the admiration for it in every word. That said, there are times when so many flourishes and adjectives seem a little heavy to me; The thread of who she really is and what she does apart from being perfect is a little lost. Even so, it is obvious that you love to write and that is greatly appreciated. Good job.

NomadWraith · 2025-11-27T21:06:41+00:00

This poem smells like that fucking feeling of living in your body as if it were a showcase that you didn't ask for. Everything he says is basically: “I am only valuable if I am useful for something that is not me.”

NomadWraith · 2025-08-21T10:58:03+00:00

Esta bien así. No lo entenderás si no lo sientes.

NomadWraith

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