Everyday it's the same:
"Are you a boy or a girl?"
Add another mark to the endless tally,
I softly answer:
Boy.
"No you're not."
Why?!
Why ask then deny my answer?
Call me a liar,
Because obviously you know my identity better than I do.
I don't even know you.
So why?!
Why do I justify myself
Every.
Single.
Time.
They say insanity is doing the same thing,
Over and over,
But expecting different results.
So when I explain my pain I realise
I must be insane,
Because the response is the same:
"You're a girl..."
'She' and 'her' -
One letter too long.
Words that I fight to avoid or deflect
As they penetrate the fragile skin that I wish I could tear away.
When I look in the mirror I wish I could see
A young man with bright eyes and a wide smile,
But I don't see 'he'.
I see 'it'...
Sometimes I don't even feel human anymore...
I've been misgendered so many times
That my will to live is slipping away,
Like the tears that are silently shed at the dead of night...
I'm a boy I promise.
I've always been a boy.
Just because I came with parts missing,
And a few spares:
Some assembly required,
Doesn't make me any less of a man.
Just because I had to hide for so long,
Doesn't mean I am the mask I put on.
Just because I've been called sister, daughter, auntie, or niece
Does not mean that my siblings don't call me 'bro',
Or that I'm not trying my hardest to be a better
SON!
It's hard!
Stuck in the form of a girl,
And you only seem to see the body,
Because you don't believe that the mind could have other ideas.
You don't believe that sex and gender are different,
Or that I could possibly be telling the truth,
Because you don't want to believe in me.
You don't want to believe that
I.
AM.
A.
BOY!
I'm a boy.
I always have been and always will be.
Don't you dare say you knew me 'before'.
Because you don't know me at all.
I've been a bridesmaid, godmother, maiden in a dress,
But inside I've been screaming,
And I won't let that screaming be silenced.
Even if you can't hear it.
Even if I seem quiet,
There is a war being waged in my soul,
And believe me,
It's violent.
I am a boy!
I'm not asking for the world.
I just want acceptance.
I want you to see me.
I want you to see
HE
YOU ARE READING
Poetry!
PoetryWhen Monty Oum passed, we were told to honour him by "simply doing something creative. Use your imagination to make the world a better place in any way that you can. If you know Monty like we do, then you know he would certainly be doing that if he...
