Mr. Owl, what is dysphoria?

What is dysphoria you ask?
Dysphoria is getting dressed in the morning
Wearing five layers of shirts
To hide the tumors on your chest
Walking towards the mirror
The judge
Jury
Prosecutor
You stand staring at your reflection
Surrounded by the maximum occupancy of persons
All yelling and arguing about whether or not
Your chest looks male enough to even walk out-fucking-side today
Dysphoria is the piece of my heart that cowers in fear
That spreads paranoia to the rest of it
Causing confusion complication a cacophony in my soul
Dysphoria is the name of another person inside me
Lying dormant from time to time
And jumping to consciousness when I need it to sleep
The most
It is a set of weeds popping up in every transguy
In every transgrrrl
It causes pain, tears, suicide, and agoraphobia,
But connects each and every one of us
No matter who we are
We have this in common.
Dysphoria is the blessing in disguise
The teacher that is hard on you
So that you will grow


Ira