It’s summer of 2019 I haven’t gotten a job Though I have applied to so many Not my fault
It’s winter of 2013 I am on a bed bent backward My skin for only his to see Not my fault
It’s fall of 2019 I didn’t get the job at Disney Though I met the qualifications in the resume and cover letter Not my fault
It’s fall of 2018 I’m finally, to everyone’s eyes a boy, But my mother speaks a different gender from her lips Not my fault
It’s spring of 2019 It’s getting out so I put on shorts My scars and my thighs are in full view My mother tells me how ‘chunky’ I look Not my fault
It’s spring of 2019 I’m graduating from high school I’m supposed to be cheering But instead, I am screaming soundlessly from a bathroom The male teacher who had gotten fired the next week tells me to shut up Not my fault
It’s summer of 2019 I’m trying to get the medication I need So I can finally feel like a boy in my body My father says I am boy enough with this ‘ugly *** haircut’ and my ‘giant thighs’ Not my fault
It's a poem my therapist had me write so I could get all the scars out of my head and onto paper. I blame myself a lot so if I wrote a 'not my fault' poem, maybe I wouldn't anymore.