often I feel like a girl
sometimes beautiful, always insecure
listening, talking, crying
forced to write this kind of thing

often I feel like a boy
for if I was smart, you call me nerd
for if I can throw your books in the dump, you call me cool
trying so hard to be strong, to be accepted

often I feel like a girl
pretty in pink, you’d say you’d ‘tap that’
but then
have you really been inside a real girl

often I feel like a boy
whose voice you've never heard
only the shrieks when you lock me on the locker room
I never ******* asked, to enter in this asylum

often I feel like a bird
trapped in this four walls
obligated, machined, regulated
to which they say the best four years of our lives