the day i was cast out into the world
through spread legs
they looked between mine
and declared, simply:
“it’s a girl”.
we’re taught to be ashamed
of who we are
that people like me, like us,
are freaks of nature.
told me the body i was given
this body, is sacred.
that i should never tamper with it.
that it’s blasphemous to trespass
on divine territory.
(who knew i could be a trespasser in my own home?)
you point to the sky,
tell me
god doesn’t make mistakes.
turn that finger back on me, on us,
spew ridicule for the ones we’re supposedly making
for merely having the courage to be.
what is it that makes doctors and parents alike
so reluctant to believe that
there are other colors out there
besides pink and blue?
the lines are blurring ––
[fuck robin thicke]
this is not a phase.
this choice was not mine to make
(unlike the one you made for me).
don’t tell me who or what i am.
i didn’t climb out of one box
just to be shoved into another.