🏳️‍🌈Pride Poems🏳️‍🌈

🏳️‍⚧️Trans poem #4🏳️‍⚧️

Another longer poem about me personally. Do yall like my writng? 💀

Start;
"She hated "herself"
"Her" body didnt fit "her"

Anytime "she" looked in the mirror
Seeing the soft features made "her" cringe.

"Her" face, body, existence being purely feminine

"Her" parents said that they'd support "her"
but oh well look at the hole they dug us in

One fateful day "she" got "her" period.
A monthly reminder that you CANT be a fucking boy.

Another day, another argument. Being sentenced to my room and being dead named hurt.

I told my parents my new name was just a nickname friends call me sometimes. They had no idea that I was trans and that I hated being called my birth name.

And they'll  go on and say how they were so happy that they had my brother and that they had me

How they always wanted a girl and a boy.

Well, what if you had 2 boys?

What if idgaf when you continue going on and on about how you want grandchildren.

Does it look like i fucking care.

Do you know how sick and tired I am of staring at a handsome guy on pinterest with fluffy brown hair and being so freaking envious? Very.

I'm tired of lying in bed crying every single night because of gender envy. Why the fuck couldnt i have been born a guy?

This poem may not rhyme but it's changing constantly as I feel more, confusing emotions about how I was born wrong.

My friends will slip up on calling me my new name sometimes and I'll say "it's fine"  but deep down my stomach is churning worse and worse and slowly eating me from the inside.

And i know thats fucking stupid because i slip up sometimes too, calling people the wrong name. Each time I do I feel like an idiot. A foreigner.

And I know it's just a harmless accident but it hurts. Knowing that I used to be that "girl" or at least pretended to be, For so damn long.

I was incomplete. And maybe I still am. Still, only my friends know im transgender. I don't even know if i can call them friends anymore though.