My cheeks are caked with blush,
Eyes lit with black mascara and liner.
A fountain of fabric flows over my body,
Patterned with flowers and bright colors.
Onlookers would see me as a woman,
And yet I feel no more feminine.
My cheeks are a forest of hair,
Eyes dark and brooding.
Armor of fabric protects my body,
Patterned with skulls and tribal symbols.
Onlookers would see me as a man,
And yet I feel no more masculine.
If I am neither feminine or masculine,
Then what am I?
I suppose that's for me to decide.
YOU ARE READING
Higher Education
PoetryThere comes a point in every person's life where they must move on. I'm trying...by God I'm trying. And this is how I try. By moving on and moving out...to higher education. This is my third collection of poetry, each piece written when my mind and...
