Oct 05
alexmistkowski's picture

2020 Election: Vote!

If you are old enough to vote
Go out and vote!
Vote as if your life depends on it because mine does. 
Neither Biden or Trump are ideal, but Biden is the lesser of two evils by far.
I keep seeing people rationalize voting 3rd party with "I have values, I want *insert thing they want in the government.* Biden isn't offering that."
I have values too. I want to continue to live. Trump isn't offering that. 
I am trans, he's already taken away my medical rights.
Don't let him take more of my rights. Don't let him take my life.

Sep 03
rant 1 comment challenge: Shoes
alexmistkowski's picture

Dad's shoes

I would LOVE to walk in my father's shoes for a little while, and hopefully, have him walk with mine. We've never quite seen eye to eye unless we're chatting about history and antique cars. All my life I've felt this barrier between us that only grew as I got older, but when I came out as trans it started to feel like an impenetrable, million-mile-thick, steel wall between us. I know he doesn't really what it means to me or what I feel on a daily basis, but I wish I could at least talk to him about it. I don't understand where his acceptance begins and ends anymore; when I thought I was gay he was 100% okay with it, but once I realized I'm trans (and gay haha younger me, you're extremely confused) it all seemingly went out the window. He's always let me wear whatever I wanted because my body shape is kinda weird for my assigned gender so clothes didn't even fit when he tried to stick with gendered clothes shopping. Pronouns and names, however, are a complete no-go with him.
Sep 14
alexmistkowski's picture


When you're like me
You don't get quiet
You don't not think 
Between the constant loop 
Of negativity
And the never ending
Need to fix certain things
To put them in order
To have them be perfect
You don't get silence
The world around you may be quiet
But your mind is always yelling
Always screaming
This is my life
This is my curse
Then one day I met someone
I almost ran into them in gym class
And when I looked up to apologize
I got caught in their eyes
The perfect blue gradient
From the pupils outward 
Slowly getting lighter
Until the blue crashed into the white
Glancing away I blush
And a smile spreads across their face
And they introduce themself
And my brain stops screaming
All I can hear is my heart beating
And the blood rushing in my ears
I stop thinking 
I'm lost in the moment
And for a split second, everything is quiet 
Sep 12
alexmistkowski's picture


When I was young I heard many things about writing
But what I was told the most
Was that writing is the most wonderful thing
That writing saves lives
And I never understood
What power words on paper hold
The power within a few words
Scrawled in messy pen marks
Across a faded off-white paper
Until one day
The day I picked up a pencil 
The day I wrote
And wrote
And wrote
Spilling my heart across the blank sheet before me 
Releasing everything I've held in my head
And suddenly I know 
The power of words
Sep 01
alexmistkowski's picture

Save The Trees

Sep 01
alexmistkowski's picture

Her Beauty

She was beautiful, but not in the way her eyes sparkled or her smile shined
She was beautiful in the way that when I admitted that I was afraid of women, she helped me learn to trust them
She wwas beautiful in the way that hwne others broke their promises hers stayed solid
She was beautiful in the way that when I found the courage to tell her who I am, she loved me more
She was beautiful in how she always checked on me, even when I told her to go away and swore at her
She was beautitful when she stayed up with me on the nights I no longer wished to live
She was beautiful in the flow of her words as she dried my tears after another fight with my father
She was beautiful in the warmth and pride in her eyes as I told her I came out as trans at school
She was beautiful in the way she stood by me no matter what 
She was beautiful 
Aug 31
fiction 3 comments challenge: Pal
alexmistkowski's picture

My Kid

      When you are born you are assigned a thing. Specific,I know,but there's no other way to say it because everyone's is different. Some get an object that talks. Others get people or monsters. There's a wide variety that sit around in the Job Lobby. We get assigned based on a child's needs and personality. A calm, shy kid obviously won't get one of our more rambunctious things and a loud obnoxious (er.. uhm... maybe i should say free spirited, it may be less rude?) won't get assigned a scaredy cat thing. Oh, you want to know what we are? You likely know us as Imaginary Friends, but we call ourselves the Invisible Helpers. We're certainly real and we're always there. However, you humans tend to forget about us early on.
Aug 30
poem 0 comments challenge: Greeting
alexmistkowski's picture

Long Time...

That was the last thing I heard before the door slammed for what would be the last time. She left. She's gone. I was alone. I didn't want to be but I was. For the first time ever I was happy. Twelve long years with her. We met when I was fourteen, I was young and dumb and couldn't see past her fake smile and I let myself get close to her. That was the biggest mistake I made. I was stuck. She was my so-called best friend then she was my girlfriend. I couldn't get out. I didn't know what I got into. She pushed me around and told me... Nevermind that. But she was finally gone! I was free! 
                                                                                 *eight years later*

Jun 01
alexmistkowski's picture

The Cat

It is so soon old friend
That you have met the end
It seems like only yesterday
Was the first time I saw you play
Rolling around the floor
Days with you were never a bore
Playing till bed
Then you'd curl up by my head
Protecting me form the monsters
We were just happy Vermonters
Living out in the sticks
Away from the houses of bricks
The ones so close 
You hear a whistle when the wind blows
Many happy memories
Seems like we had centuries
Yet there were only eleven short years
Now my eyes fill with tears
For when I woke
Your soft fur I shall stroke
As I did every morn 
Now my heart is torn
For when I touched your fur
You did not stir
You did not breathe
For your loss I grieve
When you feel so cold
My friend you got old
Yet I stay ageless
Your story has run out of pages
I miss you old friend
Too soon you greeted your end
May 08
alexmistkowski's picture

One Last Time