If I showed you my teardrops,
Would you collect them like rain,
Store them in jars,
That are labelled with "Pain"

Would you follow their tracks,
From my eyes down my cheeks,
As they write all their stories,
I'm too scared to speak.

Would you stop them with kisses,
Bring their flow to a halt,
As you teach me that pain,
Isn't always my fault.

Would you hold my face gently,
As you dry both my eyes,
And whisper the words,
"You're too precious to cry"

If I showed you my teardrops,
Would you show me your own,
And though we're lonely,
We were never alone.

I am in the right restroom,
I am wearing the right clothing,
I am not confused,
I am in the wrong body

Yes, My mother knows of my "condition".
Maybe I am mentally ill.
But that is not for you to decide.
Yes, This is of my own free will,
And not an act of rebellion.

I am not a girl.
This is my real name.
I am Kayden T. Widmer
And Yes, I am a boy.