August Storms

“Lessons Learned”

by Wyndae Alexandra

Don’t count on God

To bless you in any situation

Don’t count on others

To relieve your stress

Don’t count on your partner

To be any help

Don’t believe in prayer

It never worked once

Be depressed or joyful

Everything you have will be taken away

Once you understand

Die before you do something stupid

Like have a stake

In a life that doesn’t want you

I always wish that I did what I should had done.

I always hope that things would be different if I had seen.

If I listened to my father

If I listened to my mother

If I listened to my teacher

If I listened to my friend

If I had done it differently

If I woke up and felt determined

If I was not a STUPID FUCKING NIGGER

I am not okay.

But that’s the lesson

Here comes the punishment.

Once knowing the certainty

The rest is just ceremony

Goodbye.

Fake god fake magic

Nothing is real except money

And I don’t have any

Let me die

Let me give up

Why

Why

Why do I live for this misery

Why was I born for this

Why didn’t I die when I crashed

Why didn’t I die when I was flogged

Why didn’t I die when I crimed

What mockery is my life

That amuses the void so

August 26th, 2025 CE

YOU KNOW YOU’RE A NIGGER!

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For those who think blind faith will

Help them in return

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Maybe I should wish you happy birthday

Then what would it do

Unless there is a way

To make it to you

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Teach me

How to sustain

How to grow

How to make

How to maintain

How to share

And I

Will help you

No one care what you say

Until you get loud

Then it’s

Why are you so loud?

Sir calm down

You have the right to remain silent

This is the terms of your sentencing agreement

Time for a drug test

You can’t work here cause you’re too loud

Nigger

I am walking by faith

Not by sight

Some reason

And hell of courage

It will work

Because nothing else has

And my own life

Is as important

As anyone else’s

Amen

Kyrie elision

Precious

Precious prayer

Saved for centuries past

Loved by the elite

Sold by the cunning

Provided as a substitute for anything useful

Imagines a god who thinks

Listening to you

Is a bore

Despairing helped none

In times of crisis and pain

Let the world move on

Once again, my thoughts fell back to back when I was in high school and I had a friend that I used to call my bestest best friend. Those days are so long ago that I hate myself for bringing them up anytime that I feel like I need to feel like more shitty than I do at the time.

I think about him his medical career, his wife, his family, his children and everything that he wanted and that he got because he wasn’t like me. He was never like me and yet was my friend for a while. I loved them deeply or at least as much love as something like me is capable of.

But where is he? He’s gone. I’m still here in this fucking town still broke still ugly, still unchanged. I hate myself a lot for losing him. I hate myself a lot in general. This confession means really nothing because even if he was listening to me, he wouldn’t care. And why should he? He’s not the fucker that wasted his life chasing after things that don’t exist because he was a child that never grew up. He’s a man. And I am a trans. Ugly woman with a beard no femininity and just a waste of whatever the fuck I was given because my dad needed to fuck a girl for some stupid ass reason. Yeah I wish I was dead.

-from “The Road Taken”

Yet when I ask for something

Like help

Mercy

Or even a tear

I am forced to realize

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hopeless

yet god

Makes me stay 8/10/25

Every day now

Is a new reason to hate

What I have become

How are things so terrible that I am forced to consider that my life is not worth living.

How am I so much of a failure that I must pretend to be something I am not in order to avoid realizing that I’m not good at being what I actually am either.

How can I believe in a god that raised his son from the dead but will stand around and shrug when I need something simple like my rent being paid and not being evicted.

How can I be sure that everything will work out but still suffer in the reality that nothing is going right and I am worn down and tired.

How can I continue when nothing wants me to move forward yet nothing will happen to end my life so that the desperation and ugliness will no longer have a punching bag.

Yet I do.

And it hurts.

August 7 2025 ————————