I sit here on the floor of my bedroom,
And I fantasize about what the future holds.

Maybe I’ll get to see my friends again
Or go to after school clubs
Maybe I’ll grow more confident
And dress how I truly want
Maybe I’ll tell the world
The reality of who I am
Maybe I’ll be myself more often
But I’m scared they won’t understand...

She’s numb
Looking for something, anything
To make her feel something.
Every day feels the same,
There’s no variety,
No excitement,
She’s just living for the day she will finally feel alive again.
Or maybe just living for the day that she won’t live anymore.
Either way, she lives.
She lives for her family,
She lives for her friends,
She lives so that others will too.
She lives.
I really hope she lives.

This means nothing to her anymore,
This waking up,
Eating,
Sleeping,
And repeating.
It’s all just an instinct for her
It no longer feels like each day is new.
It no longer feels like she can live her life to the fullest.
It no longer feels like she can really be truly happy.
It feels like nothingness
There is nothing for her here

She no longer cries
For it does nothing but make her feel worse
She feels less anxious because what’s the point in thinking about things
Nothing is real if you think about it
Your brain is just playing a realistic game
A game of survival
A game of love and loss
The game of life is tough because nobody ever wins.

Why?
They ask.
They’re so different from the others
What’s the difference?
Gender is a social construct,
What’s the difference between girls and boys?
Why does there need to be such a means of separation?
Why can’t we all just be human?
They want to be normal
They don’t know where they belong
With the boys?
No.
With the girls?
Maybe.
But, really, they feel best
When they’re with those who are neither.
Not a boy nor a girl,
Just a person
They want to be seen as just a person
Not a girl, a human being.
Because really, what’s the difference?

Stalking in the shadows.
Whispering false truths.
Flaunting their dignified beauty,
Socialites against a wallflower backdrop.
They scratch without leaving a mark,
And stab you in the back without breaking the skin.
Admired, but nobody really knows them
They’re heroic villains.
Humanoid looking, but they’re really ghosts.
Really, creatures of the dark and the bad can still shine in the light if they’re mean enough.