Werner’s Deposition.

I thought I would write this instead of sending 100 text messages harassing you while you were at work and bothering you. Making you annoyed, etc. I’m not sure where to start, but, I will try to ease into it.

You will willingly admit your feelings for me aren’t equal to how I feel about you. Yet I compare myself to all the women you’ve fallen “head over heels” for. I’m the only one that doesn’t treat you like a pile of shit and you don’t feel “equal” to me. Do you know how badly this hurts? Actually, you do.

Cait fell in love with a guy who called her a cunt. A guy who is a douche, and you got to watch your girl fall for him. And it hurt. It would make you cry. You’d ask yourself why you weren’t good enough? You were so much better than him in every way, and you had been around and talked to her everyday for hours straight, and yet she still picked someone over you.

I will say this as gently as I can. You are becoming my Cait.

I treat you so well. I genuinely care about you. I’m actually attracted to you. I listen to you on the phone for hours and I write you letters trying to describe everything that’s perfect about you. But you still don’t feel equal. I start asking myself why.

When I come to the conclusion that Im not pretty enough, you tell me Im being insecure.

When I come to the conclusion that Im way too emotional, you tell me its ok to let emotions out. And I shouldn’t bottle them it. That I should write songs or write a vlog/blog.

So thats what Im doing. Even after telling you that everything about you is beautiful, I was still called an underdog. Like…Im not better than the women you’ve known. Even though I treat you with so much care, it doesnt matter how good I am to you, you never feel equally the same. You say you need time, which of course plays into any relationship (friend or romantic) after it’s broken apart. But it still hurts so bad after all this time that I feel like Im not “good enough” even though I know if I said that to you youd scoff. It only took you such a short time to “love” cait, and yet she was so hollow. so FAKE. Im here and Im real and…you see right through me.

Id like to be able to not care. To just shrug it off, but this is seriously wounding. When you suggest that you’d support me if I found someone else, that hurts. Because you’re still not realizing I don’t want anyone else right now. That I actually care about you and want YOU. some guy in Virginia I’ve never met, takes precedence over kids I could date in my highschool that are my age. You aren’t surprised, or elated, or grateful by this. You just text “I see” when I tell you I dont want to go to homecoming because you’re not there. Or when I tell you I’d skip my last chance at prom because it wouldn’t be with you.

So, I guess you can see why I’m confused. Yeah, it took me a long time to get over Mitchell. But you can guarantee if someone had come to me and told me I was beautiful and perfect, and that they hang on every word I say, and they love how I sing and my laugh, I wouldn’t give a flying fuck about him anymore. And I wouldn’t think about him.

You’ve helped me to forget him, and you don’t even love me. I’m not writing this to assign blame, to hurt you, to hate you or to be cruel. But this is how I feel. Its why Im ashamed to show you pictures of me, and to go on video chat with you, because even though you say my looks don’t matter, the only thing that separates me from her, is how you look at us.

You fell for her in a matter of days, and over time you were still obessed even though she treated you like shit.

I treat you like God on Earth, and all I can stir up out of you is “I care.” 

It hurts, a lot. And I tell you I’ll keep getting back up to stand next to you. Because I care about you that much. And I really feel like it wouldn’t even matter if I got back up again or if I just laid on the ground and let all of this shit just stomp all over me. Whether I get back up or lay down and take it, it’s still reduced to “I wish I could feel equal to you”

And its why I always go ranting about “Oh well, someone will love me. Even if youre too blind to see how good I am.” Because Im trying to say all of this in one sentence. And you still simply agree with “yea :3” like its ok that you find someone else besides me, I don’t care. I’d support you! …-facepalm- That. hurts. a lot.

I should end this now before I say too much. But I cant keep this shit in. I keep in a lot more than you may think, and I’m still overly emotional lol. But maybe you can understand why I would go through Cait’s photos on facebook and long to look like her. Long to even BE her. Because even now, I can’t get you to feel for me like you did for her. And Im never sure why that is, Im supposedly just as pretty, I treat you better, and…theres nothing.

I hope this sheds light on why I start up little fights and shit that causes you to have headaches and leave me to talk to your friends. Its the same reason as to why you clung to cait like a little child when she decided to finally tell you that she doesnt love you. You’re in love and you don’t understand why the person you love doesn’t feel the same. And you keep trying harder and harder to make them happy and prove your love to them. But, to no avail, nothing works bro. You know this, you’ve been through it before. And we are still “cool” I dont want you to read this and freak out like Im super pissed at you or something. I just needed to at least try and defend my past actions as to why Ive been so over the top and stressed about it all. So, you know what it felt like to go through all of that with cait, I will stop explaining and leave it to your memories to remember how painful it felt and still feels, because Im feeling that pain towards you.

Posted in The Beginning | Leave a comment

An Angel’s Wing

You tell me looks don’t matter, the inside is what counts

But as I watch your whole world crumble, I still withhold my doubts

She had a faced carved from angels, oh those gentle golden curls

But you never saw it coming as her true intention unfurls

Blind lust and obsession led you forward, you thought she felt the same

Ignoring every single fault and bright red flag that came


And still you tell me “Be you” “Be you”

How can I be me when missing her is all you do?

Looking in the mirror, there is a face looking back at me

I watch tears well in her eyes, for horrid is all she sees

Fingers dug deeply in her hair, she grips her head so tight

Begging it will grow faster, praying with all her might


I watched you climb the tower, to catch an angel’s wing

She filled your heart with warmth and made your soul to sing

As you chased her celestial image, you were lifted into flight

But wisps of clouds concealed her and kept her heart from sight

You did not know pain as she drove the blade into your chest

I watched you plummet from the Heavens as you fell among the rest


Crying out that all he had is gone, all he wanted is lost

He does not notice me standing here, bearing with the cost

I am only human, only imperfect, nor made of gold

But I can only refuse to believe that his heart is sold

I stay and fight my way through each trying pain

Striving and pushing to win a heart that I wish to gain

Seen as an underdog, without the same quality

as the angel that had come along before me

I work harder, struggle viciously to ignore the label

Biting the bit and pushing on even when Im not able


Maybe only I can see true beauty, pushing away what people say

I will not believe that I am lesser than a woman who will not stay

By a man so wonderful and so loving as is he

Someday he’ll see that the angel he lost is me.






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A Letter to a Fallen Hero

Dear Sgt. York,

There is a lesson to be learned, a valuable lesson. Maybe you had discovered it at some point as well. It seems that no matter how good of a person you are for someone; how well your personality matches up or how happy you are together. In the end, if you do not match their outside criteria, you’re worthless. And any attempt to appease them is a waste of time. As I have told you, I am caught between two drastically different worlds. The one of a man and the one of a woman. I have a physically female body, with the mindset that I am a man. It poses particular problems. I still fall in love easily with men, however they are not so inclined to return affection when they find out my little secret. Even if I tried I could not be feminine. Every fiber in my body is opposed against it. I don’t feel comfortable and it depresses and demoralizes me to even try. Yet, following the path of being who I am renders me alone. I’ve been told I’m a good person, that I’m caring, but when I just wind up by myself in the end I’m just not so sure I can buy that anymore. You’d think if I was that great of a person people wouldn’t just want to let me go. They might want to hold onto me longer. Cherish my qualities, maybe I’d even get some respect. But, this doesn’t happen. Instead I am forced to choose. Be yourself, or be with someone. It’s sad I let myself care so much about people. I’d be willing to do anything just to make sure they’re happy. I try to be mindful of how much time I spend with them, try not to take too much time off to myself. I do all of this for one person. One person. And when the final verdict comes, it does not matter. How I feel, what I did, what I strived to do. I tried to lift him up, make him feel better about himself, reassure him that he’s perfect just the way he is. Which I believe to be true 100%. I guess I was always expecting some kind of return feelings. I just always wanted to hear “You’re perfect, just the way you are.” But because I am so…so unacceptable. Too manly, too man-like, because the name Johnathan is mine and Melisa isn’t, I have to be separated from this person simply because I’m trapped in this body, and I refuse to deny it. When I was with him, my days would be mixed with happiness and sadness. I enjoyed his company, and his unqiue attributes, yet at the same time every “I love you” that was said by him felt hollow. He wasn’t talking to me. He was talking to the 17 year old girl everyone wants me to be. After a while I let myself start believing he loved me. It helped ease the pain. I tried to support him during trials of a past crush, and I started submerging myself in the illusion that if I continued to be faithful, and if I continued to unconditionally stand by him, protecting him and guiding him, that maybe one day he’d see me for who I was. And he’d love it. But, when the realization came that it didn’t matter, I was utterly destroyed. Out of all of his past crushes or ex-girlfriends, it appeared to me that I treated him the best. I cared for him most sincerely, and it still didn’t matter how good of a person I was. Now, I am no God of a partner. I would arouse arguments. I would overthink. But it was only because it was coming down to the winding inevitable battle of: Who I am vs. Keeping this man I love, and I knew this.

But knowing your partner doesn’t really love you. Doesn’t really love YOU. And never WILL. It’s just too painful to even bear when you’re trying to be with them. And I imagine who he would pick as a lover. A nice fragile girl with hips and a gentle smile. Bright happy eyes. A gorgeous cascade of hair tumbling down her shoulders.

I will never meet that requirement. I will never be some nice or beautiful girl. I will never be a magnificent woman. Even without physical changes to my body, I will never be a woman. Because I don’t feel as one, and it hurts me to even be called one.

Sgt. York, I know you’re listening to me somewhere. You’re rolling your eyes at this drama. Telling me to get up kid, and don’t stop running. To keep pushing yourself to be your best even when you’ve fallen and you don’t think you can get up again. I wish you were still alive. I like to believe that you would have been a good man. A great man. A respectable man to talk too, even if my problems are a little out of your time. I’m glad I took time to write this for you. Even if you’ll never read it. If you were a God believing man, I know you made it to heaven sir. Or at least, a soldiers heaven.

Maybe someday, I will have the honor of joining you.

-Johnathan J. Werner

Posted in Table For Two | Leave a comment

Until Death Do We Part

Everything I do, I do to please others
Never giving a fuck about myself.
It comes from being lonely. Just want someone to care
Maybe, just maybe if I grow out my hair
Someone will think Im pretty. And love me.
Other people will no longer be above me
When I look in the mirror, I wont be happy
I'll be subjecting myself. To a lifestyle I dont like
But maybe its better than being called a dyke

So is this it? Is this how I get love?
By pretending to be beyond and above
Who I really am, who I want to be
Instead just trying to be so pretty
To impress, to live, this body I was given in
But everytime I put on that makeup Im just givin in
Caving to what everyone else wants but not me
Doing what everyone else wants me to do, but not me
Yet I hate walking a lonely road
Don't feel good enough for anyone, dont match the code
of what I should be. Of what Im supposed to be
You're a girl right? Arent you supposed to be pretty?

Maybe I don't like being "pretty" or "attractive"
Maybe Im just fine with myself the way I am.
But fuck it, just so alone, goddamn
Seems like the only way I'll get some attention
is if I just lay down and take this infection
Succumb to the will of the public, the popular scene
Even though everything I do, it just isnt fucking me
The supporters they always tell me "Be yourself"
Guess Im just not good enough so I'll be by myself.
This is a battle of who I am vs. what others like more
At the end of the day I just want to close the door
Screaming in frustration, pounding on these walls
demanding an explanation behind the confusion of these halls

What do you want from me? What should I do?
I either be myself, or die alone without you.
To the rationalist, it seems so obvious.
Be yourself, fuck everyone else
But Im so tired. So weak, from this isolated
emotionally strained from constant desolation

Beautiful girls, oh those pretty women
hair in bows, the men are smitten
with them, but oh no not me
to much like a man myself, but thats me
I like myself, but no one else does
This is the price I pay because
I decide to be me instead of society's pet
And now this is the end, the trap is set

Time to live a lie
Till the day I die
Thats just how it goes for me
Its the way its got to be
Because Johnathan, thats me
Well, I'm not real
I feel pain, but I'm not real
I feel love, but oh I'm not real
You can't see me so, I don't exist
Ignorance is bliss.
Posted in The Beginning | Leave a comment


Invisibility is often portrayed as a superhero’s special ability. A unique power. A gift. But what if invisibility is the curse of your life? Not a single person can see you. Not even your own parents. Your mother. And you grow up in a world by yourself. Emprisoned inside of a body that isn’t yours. If you try to speak, people take notice for the first time. They see you, but they glare. “You’re crazy.” or “What the Hell are you talking about?” Those are just some of the things I’ve heard while trying to speak out.

People walk by, and they address you. But they call you a different name. Instead of calling you your name, they call you Georgia, or maybe they call you David. And you just want to scream “HEY! That isn’t my name? Can’t you see my name is obviously John?”

Well…maybe thats getting a little personal.

Because everytime I hear the name Melisa, or Mel. It isn’t mine.

Goddamnit, I try to describe this, but with every line

It seems like Im lyin

and people just stop listening to me

They think I’ve gone crazy

And all I want to do is to say hi

But they dont even know Im a guy

Then theres that person that comes around

Making your heart pound

You’ve lost your senses, falling so fast

You’re so willing to do anything to make it last

Then the realization, the pain

When you realize they aren’t saying your name

Thats not my name. It isnt. Dont you love me baby?

And then thats when they look at you like you’re crazy

Baby, Ive been here all along dont you know me

Surely you’ve seen me all this time, cause we

we were talkin and walkin and you were holdin my hand

We were talking about the promise land and all the

things we would do when we were old

Surely you know me by now without bein told?


They stare back, eyes glazed

Seemingly dazed

With nothing to say they are silent

You stare back at them quiet

Hoping, praying, theyve seen you all along

And then they whisper quietly “You’re wrong.”

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To the X

I do hope you sincerely enjoy making my summer a living Hell

a lifeless gray sky with sleepless nights.

While you move on as quick as wind, forgetting your past vows like you had never uttered them.

Yes I do hope you enjoy making my life a nightmare I can not escape

while you live through your days in utter joy and passion.

And I rot while thinking about you. I can’t help but hate you.

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I can’t help feeling more hatred as I’m shoved back into reclusion. Forced in a corner I can’t come out from, and pushed behind bars that are too thick to tear through. Feeling caged, with a laughing audience as the whole world watches me burn.

Waves of humiliation wash over me. Lips curling in a vicious snarl, I lunge at those who dare mock me. Only being forced deeper into a chamber of solitude and despair. Hatred comes so easy to my mind when everything around me I despise. No longer loving the ones that were so dear to me. Why? Trust, has been lost. Love, has been destroyed. No longer are there remnants of what once was, only new wounds are gouged over old scars. The same blood still gushes forth. My blood. The same blood that has run through my veins since my conception. Hatred, is the only emotion I can feel so strongly. Hatred to no particular being, but every living thing. Every existence or tangible idea is victim to my loathing. Can anything drown the fire that burns within?

No. For with time, it will flare up again.

And burn a path of hatred once more.

Posted in Dark Thoughts | Leave a comment