Transgirl Runaway

Let's have a toast for my transgirls
The ones struggling to hold on
Let's have a toast for my trap girls
The ones tryna stay so strong
Baby you'll find a man
Stay awake as long as you can

This one goes out to my transgirls
That need a man in they world
So don't sleep on us baby
Stay as long as you can

Don't sleep on us baby
Stay Awake
Don't sleep on us baby
Stay as long as you can

My heels are wooden with straps of brown leather that raise my 125 lbs. 5'10" and 3/4 inch frame to over 6 ft. 2.  The people stare in a good way.  The waitress does a double take, and I can't help but smile. You been here before? A couple times. Is that why everyone is looking at you? They are looking at me cuz I'm gorgeous, as I throw my gorgeous look across the table at my good old southern date.
When I'd hopped in his car, I buried my nose in my purse to make sure I had my keys, money, cellphone, and condoms.  A girl's gotta be prepared.  Sadly, I'd used my last droplet of lube on my trick hours earlier that day, a 70 year old grandfather of 3 who had managed to perfectly time his orgasm to mine, not to mention stay rock hard for the 5 minutes of pounding my contorted frame that it took to build toward our mutual release.  Good sex with a grandpa notwithstanding, that last drop's dispersal meant tonight would be a spit night, if it went there. Of course it would go there. I base my worth on the degree of men's sexual desire for me, despite being smart enough to measure the madness of that meter. You can't lie to your own self, but you can try. The chicken marsala was decent. Nothing about it was paticularly good, but I had been starving all day.  All of my money goes to rent, my cell phone bill, hormones, and pot; in that order. The only time I splurge on food is when I happen to have money, a ride, and my diaphragm becomes so weakened from my body breaking my muscle down for energy that it belabors my breathing and makes it manual, signaling that it's time to pig out.  Starvation is a horrible thing.  I've experienced it for the sake of my transition, and it has connected to me to the legions of the meek whom suffer breathing.  The most striking thing is the effects on your thought process.  See for yourself, but man's mechanisms evolved such that our minds flourish through the first vollies of hunger; as our bodies wring themselves out like sponges and just in time recompile our metabolisms to keep our brains sugared, and later ketoned.  An amazing thing happens at that point when our glucose reserves run dry: our brains start growing new connections that reattach past wirings to help us remember forgotten food sources and creativly seek out new ones.  It is this creative spark from starvation, and our ability to distrust the seen in favor of the unseen that bequethed this planet to us as our domain.  I have felt it making me loopy, but only after hours of it making me prescient and effective in actualizing the matter of my mind.  How clever the hand of God.  The mid tier butter wine sauce quenched my starvation response as my date watched me eat.  I should have known he was broke when he passed on ordering himself food.  What a sweetheart, going hungry to buy me on overpriced meal.  I would have been happy with McDonalds.  We put my 90% of what I ordered leftovers into boxes and we left.  He pinched my ass a little on the way out.  I didn't mind, I was starting to like this guy.