I lose track of my own gender sometimes.
Figuring it out is not as simple as finding rhymes.Some days I’m a cis girl, who has no idea why
She thought my gender was complicated.Others I’m just fluid
Who wishes he hadn’t wanted to wear a dress when she woke up.
Or that she hadn’t thrown on a button up after he showered.But most days I’m just a non-binary teen
Who thinks it’s stupid they even have to pretend that there’s a gender that fits.
Who wishes they could get their hair cut.And I’m always terrified when I put on clothes.
Terrified that I’m going to get dysphoric later
In the clothes I picked out for myself.Some days I love my curves.
Some days I do everything in my power to flatten my large breasts.
Some days are for red ballet flats;
Others for neutral black boots.I use the pronouns she/her/hers in real life
Just out of safety.
But I would love to use they/them/theirs
So I could love myself.I decided I needed to find a new name.
I began calling myselfx
Simple and neutral.
Genderless.
I can go either way, as x.And I don’t even like the name I was given.
Why should I?I’ve been pretending to be her.
Pretending to know who she is.