Here is the Truth:

Here is the Story:

Your fingers are clutched close and lose at your side. Your pulse hammering like there is a bird trapped inside.  Something about the person in front of you is wrong. You are not supposed to feel afraid in front of them. 

Here is the thing: Your heart will collapse in your chest and every step will feel weighted with lead. They are religious and Christian and you are shaking and broken and wasted. 

Here is the reality: The birdcage outside is still a birdcage. When your fingers are pressed against another set of bars you will laugh because it was not supposed to go like this. Coming out is not supposed to go like this. 

Here is the reality: You will speak and the world will fall from beneath you. They will look at you like you have gone insane and they will laugh. The anger in your blood will pulse like a second heart. You will smother it. This is not the place for anger.

Here is the middle: You are screaming something about leaving and they are shouting something about fear. You are supposed to be the one afraid. They are instead. You are a pillar of bravery and sharpened teeth and disappointment. 

Here is the end: Your best friend holding a rainbow flag and your new name in his mouth. There are people around you and they are smiling. Your teeth are not sharp. Your teeth have never been sharp. 
You are not a weapon. You are a boy. 

Here is the next beginning: Joshua, Joshua, Joshua floating through the air like a battle cry. Your grin is bigger than you thought, your chest is alive with everything you couldn't say before. Your hair is short and your laugh is long. 

Here is the truth: It may be a birdcage, but you still have wings. 
And one day you will fly.