Jun 2016
They call me bohemian,*
a lost intellectual
hidden with no ambition
A happy go lucky,
who hops and hits
like a river flowing downhill
A philosophical dreamer
with subjective absolutions
unrealistic surreal expectations
They see my eccentric fashion
the chic grease of mismatch
A happenstance of my day's mood
My mind is indigenous
My soul is gender fluid
A vessel of masculinity and femininity
One day, it's a skirt and blouse
The next is a bow tie and shirt
The other is a blend of two
A maverick in a world alone
I felt it all my life, the lack of connection
No motions with the convectional
Their whispers cannot be heard
I am done with biting my nails
Let them pull their hair with their noise
Their chitter and chatter complaints
As I gaze and talk to the floor
*weary of their mediocre complaints
a lost intellectual
hidden with no ambition
A happy go lucky,
who hops and hits
like a river flowing downhill
A philosophical dreamer
with subjective absolutions
unrealistic surreal expectations
They see my eccentric fashion
the chic grease of mismatch
A happenstance of my day's mood
My mind is indigenous
My soul is gender fluid
A vessel of masculinity and femininity
One day, it's a skirt and blouse
The next is a bow tie and shirt
The other is a blend of two
A maverick in a world alone
I felt it all my life, the lack of connection
No motions with the convectional
Their whispers cannot be heard
I am done with biting my nails
Let them pull their hair with their noise
Their chitter and chatter complaints
As I gaze and talk to the floor
*weary of their mediocre complaints
