I grew up hearing
Little miss this and
Little miss that
But I think there’s been a little mistake
A little misunderstanding
Like there’s something that they missed
Because certainly sir could replace the title of miss
And mister wouldn’t stir up a fuss
And I could still be me
Right?
Ever since I was little I took pride in the word tomboy
Not realizing the other labels that pride could be applied to
Because I spent my life being lied to
About what gender really means
And I’ve been starting to question and I’ve been starting to learn
That expectations aren’t everything
And when it comes to gender roles
I grew up just rolling with it
But recently realized that I don’t have to
And I’ve been coming up with different ways of coming out
But mostly I’ve just spent a lot of time thinking
About spectrums and pronouns and labels and orientation
About binders and binaries and identity versus expression
About the way that I never really minded the onslaught of
She
She
She
Shhhh…
He
Maybe he can fit just as well
Maybe she fits fine
Maybe I can be a daughter by day and a son by night
Maybe I can bypass the binary and angle towards androgyny
Or transcend transgender in term of ambiguity
Maybe I can be
Me
And maybe someday that will be enough
Because boy oh boy there are days that I do love being a girl
But what can you do when it’s a dog eat dog world
And you were born a cat?
Just a little bit more of a ***** than you were hoping for
In this world where facts are misconstrued
And your words are misinterpreted
And you’re feeling a little
Just a little… misgendered

Hands.
***** and brown they reach up
From the mud. Opening their hands,
Releasing butterflies of death
From their clutches. The grass,
Is still green. The trees, are still alive.
Where life is around me it is also
In the hands where it shouldn't.
They grasp ankles and drag them down.
Some, fall easy. Some not so.
They turn the beautiful skin
Into deep brown ****, muddied
Brown, thick with biomasses of
******* maggots and soil and pebbles.

The sunrise is gorgeous.
It slips into your eyes and enlightens
Your vision with dazzling colours.
The world is alive. Everything is wonderful.
But the hands are relentlessness.  
It's all so pristine,
Even as the mud
Encases your nose, and
Cakes your eyes.

No honor given
American people honor many things.
We honor soldiers, fireman, policeman.
We honor football player, baseball players
But we don't honor the american Indians
The way we should.
The is running bear, Cochise, and many others.
This land was owned by them before our father took it from them.
No honor is given to them or even a thank you.

You are a toddler prancing around in Mom's heels.
Swearing they fit as your feet slip and slide around them,
when will you realize there's a difference between maturing and simply acting older than you are?
When will you realize that blood usually means a certain amount of loyalty,
a certain amount of love?

I have a sister
Belittled and Torn
Who probably feels forgotten.
Past pain
Rebounds and ricochets
Inside her empty soul.
She cries at night
Sometimes, I know
But she doesn't deserve her tears.
Beautiful
Strong
Those cookie-cutter phrases
Couldn't  begin to describe her
Brilliance.
I have a sister with a funny laugh
And pale skin.
A sister who dances
When she pleases.
I have a sister
Who likes to be alone.
Whose fragile heart-
Once so loving,
Slowly turned to stone.
I have a sister
Who learned to forget
And who learned to love me again.
I have  sister
Who tries to forget
But sometimes remembers
the pain most present.
She didn't deserve her past,
Or pain
But she deserves a
perfect future.