I look into the mirror, not wanting to see. Who I am, but what I could be. A girl to the world, a boy at heart. A girl from the womb, a boy from the start.
"Be proud of who you are" That's what they say. But how can I be proud, WhenΒ Β my body causes me dismay?
"You'll never be a boy." They shout at me. "Then I'll never be happy." I guess it's meant to be.
I come to my room, my chest stained red. I cut myself open, just to see the dead ends.
For I still have a heart, and I still have a soul. But i'll never be a boy. That's all I've been told.