The Threat by Mykell Hatcher-McLarin (9/1/15)

I remember the days when it wasn’t real.
I remember the days when I didn’t think
it was Real;
That I could walk down streets and
pretend I was safe.
Even though I definitely could have been safe.
Safety wasn’t second guessed.
I could walk freely and rest.
I could laugh at the carefree nature of the world.
It didn’t matter that I am boy
and the world saw me as a girl.
Only thing mattered was the laughter
curling into my cheeks,
the light in my eyes
Unphased by truths I never personally seen.
But that time was when I was a baby.
Soon as my brain grew conscious,
Everything Changed.
I don’t walk down streets the same,
Afraid of being
Even though boys didn’t get it “as bad.”
But I was a girl in the eyes
of men more knowing than me.
Momma taught me, “Can’t Trust men
They’ll take advantage of [me].”
So I grew up not knowing how to trust men.
One day not knowing how to trust me.
Compromised in My Dreams;
By a perspective on repeat.
And now where does that leave me?
Where does it leave the women
I’ve known and seen
Violated under all means?
Where does leave the boy who’s
told he has a girl’s body?
How do I learn to trust masculinity
When its always been shaped as a threat to me?
The playdo’s harden over years
charred under the degrees of inferno
and nobody even knows.
Shit, I didn’t even know
till realizations hit me that even
him trying to build intimacy is
Can’t trust the man laying next to me.
Haven’t trusted the man standing next to me.
What is trust for the man trying to support me?
What does it mean to trust any man?
I mean
My Body; raped
My Mind; fucked
My Heart; touched inappropriately
I sit here replaying the history
Frightened of
how it’s all Engrained so Deep.
Where at the core,
I’m having trouble trusting any man;
Even Me.

Hatred in my Heart

The painful truth

Chucks And Ties

I looked over at the table that my manager told me I needed to clean and saw an obnoxious amount of food and beers that were left from the couple before. This is not in my job description, I am a bartender, not a server. After putting on some gloves and removing the crap off of the table, I met up with my coworker who had an intense look of disgust on his face.

” I am starting to hate white people, and it hurts my soul. I am a damn Buddhist for peeds sake, hatred is like completely opposite of my teachings.”

This guy isn’t just my coworker, he is my 16-year-old Black brother who is working his first job alongside of me, serving middle class people over-priced barbecue and getting paid minimum wage to do so. “Those people didn’t even tip. Their bill came to above fifty dollars and they didn’t even tip…

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Ameen (Poetry Performance)

On Sunday April 19, 2015, I had the honor to perform “Ameen” at the Queer Monologues at the University of Maryland, College Park (my soon to be all ma mater).

This is one of my few poems I have had the opportunity to capture on camera. Finally a poem of me performing (and of course it had to be on the hardest poem I’ve performed ever).

I hope you enjoy 💚💜

Peace and Empower,


“Ameen” by Mykell Hatcher-McLarin (4/19/15)

I hold my stomach
And squeem
thinking of things
I’ve only dreamed
Her name is Ameen
Not quite real
But she could be
You could be
as you’re growing
In every crevice of my mind
like galaxies in formation
Iron blood pumping
through empty spaces
Stars aligning in rotation
As the thought loops
Like protons
around helium
building energy so
fast you’ll explode in my heart
With the passion of a thousand suns
And I know that’s cliché
Like the words that usually cling
Tightly in between the lines of my poetry
And I don’t mean you’re not unique
But rather you
Come to my mind so quickly
Like I’ve dreamed you before
Every night
When I was 18,
I dated a woman.
She was a lesbian
who wouldn’t have been
your mother
because she didn’t want
a daughter
in fear that she would be
her mother.
Found that out the hard way
when I woke up one day
and told her
“I just had a dream
about our daughter.
I called out Ameen
and she came to me.
Isn’t that exciting?”
She had nothing to say
and maybe it was
meant that way.
For My Dream
didn’t include two women
There was
You and Me.
Both of us enigmas
In a future
I want to Be
with You
Giggling Baby Girl
Bouncing into my arms
I love you Daddy
I love you…
Probably the same way I used to
when I was
Baby Girl
In the arms of My Father
Baby Girl
Grown into Daddy.
I’m not afraid to be My Father
so You’ll have Me
And for now I’ll have you
In moments
when boyfriend
Rubs my stomach
I ask him,
Do you want children?
I want two
so the first one won’t be lonely.”
Right there,
I knew the first one would
Be You
and the four of us
could be a family.
Not the same dream
but still those thoughts fill me.
And I start wondering
about Pregnancy
forming in Body
Reconstructing Man
in midst of Invisibility.
Those lines in between my poetry
I may not want anyone to read
But wanting to read her genealogy
And See Me
In the XX chromosomes
marking the spot
where two souls
came together
and made
A Baby
inside me
But I don’t want a baby inside me
Fear passed over ovaries
Semen too deep
In panic I drown in ocean
Rescue me
Rescue me
I want to be your Daddy
I want you to carry a piece of me
But I’m not willing to carry
And that pains me
At night
When he and I lay in sheets
rustled before bed
“We should use a condom”
He nods.
We grab one.
I smirk.
Mixed Feelings.
Wary of raw emotion
coursing through me
I want to say
Fuck It!
I want to be a Daddy
Your baby feet kicking
Pitter patter
on oak floors
Brown like Skin
if you were mine
from the beginning
You’d be
With Daddy and
With Daddy and
At Daddy
Being Silly
with His Baby Girl
His Baby Girl
My Baby Girl
But Ameen I don’t want to carry
I Just Want You

Performing “Ameen” (4/20/15)

Last night, I had a powerful relapse of thought I never consciously experienced, a glimpse into a past I wasn’t old enough to remember, and a flash back of a future that hasn’t occurred in this life.

I performed what has been my most strugglesome and impactful poetry topic I’ve ever written on. And once again I cried in the middle of performing my piece. But in a very different way this time. From much deeper inside (to the point where I actually forgot my poem at one point Iwas so deep into the thought).

Afterwards, which I usually always inquire, I confusingly said “I never expect to cry. Ever. But I always seem to when I perform these poems. What is that?”

And something Lotus told me was amazingly affirming and extremely encouraging:

“It’s cool. You’re a sensitive dude. That’s a good thing.”

A good thing.
To be sensitive.
A good thing to be a guy and be sensitive.

I didn’t express exactly how much that meant to me Lotus but it meant an unexplainable amount.

Thank You for Honoring the Power of Sensitivity.
And even more so the Power of My Sensitivity.

Thank You heart emoticon

I haven't drawn a self-portrait since 8th grade @.@ It feels good to draw again <3 So much so that it inspired me to write a poem ^^

Age: 33 (poetry)

“Age: 33” by Mykell M Hatcher-McLarin 02/19/15

I looked in the mirror and saw you in it.
You were Me
smiling on pasts yet to come.
I say this cuz I’ve felt like I’m met you before.
Maybe in a dream.
Maybe in a haze.
Tripping on a memory yet lived.
You said to Me
You have yet to live
So keep fighting for this dream
It’s not as surreal as it seems.
Tripped backwards to move forward.
Mirrors don’t fool me
They just tell me truths unseen.
That’s when I looked in the mirror and saw you in it.
I saw Me,
a not so distant dream.

Funding Freedom for Ky Peterson (1/29/15)


***trigger warning: rape, sexual assault, battery, violence towards transgender people

Yes, rape can reach anyone at anytime in any situation under any circumstance.

And sometimes, when we have a chance to do something about sexual violence we don’t.

This is a chance to do something about rape culture and working to combat the injustice around sexual violence:

1. Please read Ky’s Story if you are not triggered by the topic of sexual assault.

2. Please donate to Ky’s Funding Freedom fund within your range of finance.

3. Please spread his story and help him in his fight for justice. Whenever you do share, please incorporate trigger warnings for those who discussions and stories of sexual assault are disorienting.

His life and his story are very important so do what you can <3

In Hope and Healing,


Please Support the Healing of Black Trans Youth

**Please Read**

In April 2014, I was honored the Black Trans Advocacy Award in Youth Leadership but I was unable to attend the BTAC conference and present on my youth leadership due to my school enrollment. Since I am scheduled to finish my classes in March, I am getting another opportunity to attend the Black Trans Advocacy Conference in Dallas, Texas from April 27-May 3, 2015.

In attending, I will be participating in the Leadership Program and presenting a workshop on how Art Therapy assists in helping transgender youth heal from trauma. Presenting this workshop will enhance my skill set and empower others as I continue working to rejuvenate our young trans people.

However, I need your help in getting me to the conference to persist in doing the work the community needs in growing as a collective. I have to fundraise $875 before April 1st. My personal goal is to be able to make my travel plans and book my hotel by March 1st so not to interfere too deeply with my coursework.
There are three different ways you can best support my scholarship fundraising efforts:

1. Donating to my fundraising campaign (any amount you can contribute) @

2. Placing an ad in the Souvenir Journal @

3. Advertising on the Maryland State website @

Alternative methods could be through providing frequent flier miles for travel and/or hotel vouchers to sponsor my stay at the DoubleTree by Hilton Hotel Dallas – Campbell Centre that is partnering with the BTAC conference.

I would so deeply appreciate your aid in my efforts. Please spread widely throughout your networks.

In Hope and Healing,

Something I’ve learned in these past few years is nothing is permanent but what you focus on.

If you have problems but focus on problems instead of solutions your problems multiply.

I see it in everything and everywhere I’ve been.

People with poor mindsets lead the worst lives.

This world is all a mindset.

Once you master your mind you master your life

Waarheid Unbuntu

Shadowed Love (poetry)

Sometimes I see

silhouettes of hearts

trying to know what it’s like to



They climb into each other

Amorphous blob

of darkness surrounded by light

Love sometimes works like this

Morphing into one

collection of doubt

from another

collection of uncertainty.

Love usually works like this

from behind

shades of lusty panting

our silhouettes

combine at the hip


I Love You


I’ll love you only

if you make me forget

that I’ve been here before

trying to combine

with something

even if it’s the

Hope of Nothing

I can picture with

My Eyes Open

or with all the lights on.

Cuz when I saw

Our Silhouette

morphed into One

I realized it was

Only Mine

wanting to be


Rest in Peace and Love – Michael McLarin and Linwood Jones (8/29/14)

It was dad’s birthday yesterday. Happy B(Earth)day Dad, Michael McLarin <3

And I saw my uncle in my dreams again. Oh he looked so healthy and full of life. You were always comforting me Uncle Linwood. Even from the stars you never stop comforting me.

Y'all come to me in my dreams and remind me I'm never alone, that you've transitioned into a different physical space but your spirits are always with, watching and protecting me.

Great Spirit keep them safe throughout their journey in the Universe <3

Rest in Peace and Love
Michael McLarin
Linwood Jones

Your Son,
Your Nephew,