jayyy-lmao
August 28th, 2013, 06:20 AM
I still don't know how to react
When someone asks me
Are you a boy
Or a girl?
The answer is boy
It has always been
And always will be
Boy
But they don't ask because they want to know
They ask because they want to see me squirm.
They want me to tug at my loose jeans,
Adjusting the sock I use
To fake a bulge.
They want to see me gasp for air,
Even more than I already have to
Because there's a bandage around my ribcage
Holding in two lumps of flesh
That should never have been there.
I don't answer them.
I walk on
With my head down
Because every time they ask
They take some of my dignity.
Later on,
They'll get me alone.
They'll ask me again,
And chase me down,
Armed with a knife
Or lust.
I say
Don't talk to me about struggle
Til you've woken up every morning
In a body that wasn't yours
And bandaged your chest
And restricted your breathing
Just so you could feel comfortable
With your body
For one day.
Don't talk to me about struggle
Until you've been chased
By men with knives
And endless lust
Because to them I was a novelty item.
Don't talk to me about struggle
Until you've been kicked out of your own home
For having a body that you didn't fit into,
A wardrobe of clothes you didn't like to wear,
A gender
That wasn't yours.
Now, I know how to react
When someone asks me
Are you a boy
Or a girl?
I tell them
I'm a man
When someone asks me
Are you a boy
Or a girl?
The answer is boy
It has always been
And always will be
Boy
But they don't ask because they want to know
They ask because they want to see me squirm.
They want me to tug at my loose jeans,
Adjusting the sock I use
To fake a bulge.
They want to see me gasp for air,
Even more than I already have to
Because there's a bandage around my ribcage
Holding in two lumps of flesh
That should never have been there.
I don't answer them.
I walk on
With my head down
Because every time they ask
They take some of my dignity.
Later on,
They'll get me alone.
They'll ask me again,
And chase me down,
Armed with a knife
Or lust.
I say
Don't talk to me about struggle
Til you've woken up every morning
In a body that wasn't yours
And bandaged your chest
And restricted your breathing
Just so you could feel comfortable
With your body
For one day.
Don't talk to me about struggle
Until you've been chased
By men with knives
And endless lust
Because to them I was a novelty item.
Don't talk to me about struggle
Until you've been kicked out of your own home
For having a body that you didn't fit into,
A wardrobe of clothes you didn't like to wear,
A gender
That wasn't yours.
Now, I know how to react
When someone asks me
Are you a boy
Or a girl?
I tell them
I'm a man