how long will i have to live,
knowing that i am forever
incapable to attaining the
same feats as the other boys
who stand before me?

how long will i have to cope
with the fact that i will never
cure myself of the boney skin
that have distinguished me
from the fit and the brawn?

how long will i feel my envy,
like violent waves crashing
onto the still shore, brewing
inside of me at the meer glimpse
of his glorious "belonging?"

how long will i stay sorrowful
how long will i stoop down to
my lowest level
and how long will i never try
to change, as if
this sadness is eternal?

in the mirror

my body morphs into the male fantasy

bones to muscle, muscle to brawn
skin sturdy, many a mind merit

perfect teeth, the perfect male face
one to please the crowd, to forget
the harmful dysphoria plague

oh, to be the reflection in the mirror

kitchen counter riddled in grey marble
a fragrance of burning wood and candy
solar blessings filtered into linear lines
fruits spread in an ikebana rainbow
a jar of sickly saccharine sugar atop
a syrupy taste lingers in that air

i long to breathe it in once more
that sweet air of my grandma's
house from all these 11,285
kilometres away from home
and ten years from those
first moments of life