No, I don’t have a ****. Yes, I have ***** and a ******. No, I am not a girl. Or a woman, Especially not a lady. I am a ******* human. I am a boy— No— A man. I am that guy you talk to When you don’t want to talk to anyone I’m that guy You ask for advice I’m that guy Who tries to help everyone else That guy Who needs someone to catch him To keep him from falling Because when he gets misgendered Or deadnamed It ******* hurts You feel like a liar You are a liar Because clearly, You’re trying to be someone nobody recognizes Nobody knows Because they all assume who you are And they get it wrong But how do you know That you’re not the one Who’s wrong? I don’t have a binder Most of my clothes are feminine And I like pastel colours and deep blacks. I am a human, just like you. Its not my fault I was born like this. I’m sorry that you think I can help it. But I can’t.
"my thoughts are not straight lines but knotted loops curling in on themselves." John Green