hi.
i don't know my name,
i've forgotten her again.
she's a stranger in an alleyway.
she's reaching for me.
and her soft, fragile hands;
with rose fingernails,
wrap around my throat and squeeze.
she's the young girl i used to be.
thick, dark eyelashes and a petite frame.
she wears cherry flavored lip gloss.
her long, blonde hair drowns me.
i cut my way free from the yellow rope.
her locks lay at my feet in chunks.
she wails in despair,
i dig my scissors into her gut,
and she bleeds pepto pink blood.

hi.
i don't know my name,
i've killed her again.
a ghost rises from her corpse.
he's reaching for me.
and his rough, calloused hands;
with scraped knuckles,
strokes my hair and hugs me tight.
he resembles my late father,
dark hair and scruff on his chin.
exhausted, sea-colored eyes.
he washes the blood from my hands.
he wraps the girl in a garbage bag,
douses her in gasoline,
and sets fire to the plastic.

hi.
i don't know my name,
but you can call me miles.
i'm tired of hiding and pretending.
i'm reaching for you,
and my shaking, ***** hands;
with scars and bruises,
i ask you to listen and understand.
i am transgender male.
homemade haircuts,
and thrifted boys' clothes.
i will never be a son to my mother,
and my house will never be a home.
but you all are my family,
and your support will keep me warm.