Aug 2019
I’m apologizing to our old memories for calling you the wrong name again
When I search for your text messages, they start with the wrong letter
End with it, too, never meet in the middle
I’m sorry that body never chose you
Never chose to hold onto the only thing it ever thought precious
When you told me how much you hated all the dresses,
I wondered if you hate all of the times I did your makeup, too
If who we were together is woven shut with apologies you’ll never ask for and I’ll never give
Sometimes I wonder if the body makes a choice
Or if it flops around until someone tells us we are something
Did I ever say you were a girl?
Or did you go to prom wondering how to peel off the layers of hips and chest?
I know your name and wonder how it fits you out loud
It feels all angles like you must have felt in a girl scout uniform
I’m out of airspace for wondering
All I was looking for was some sort of grounding
Some red wire or telephone poll or tall building with an elevator
Because if I was electricity, you were something else and I don’t want you to become something to burn
But I still mourn you, sometimes
Like you burned her down
When I search for your text messages, they start with the wrong letter
End with it, too, never meet in the middle
I’m sorry that body never chose you
Never chose to hold onto the only thing it ever thought precious
When you told me how much you hated all the dresses,
I wondered if you hate all of the times I did your makeup, too
If who we were together is woven shut with apologies you’ll never ask for and I’ll never give
Sometimes I wonder if the body makes a choice
Or if it flops around until someone tells us we are something
Did I ever say you were a girl?
Or did you go to prom wondering how to peel off the layers of hips and chest?
I know your name and wonder how it fits you out loud
It feels all angles like you must have felt in a girl scout uniform
I’m out of airspace for wondering
All I was looking for was some sort of grounding
Some red wire or telephone poll or tall building with an elevator
Because if I was electricity, you were something else and I don’t want you to become something to burn
But I still mourn you, sometimes
Like you burned her down
When my friend transitioned, they denouned parts of who they were before. I tried so hard to be the person that is completely supportive and questions nothing and I would never tell them in real life how much I missed from before. I know they are the same wonderful person. I accept them wholeheartedly and unconditionally. But when they suddenly dismissed most of the parts of our lives we spent together, I still felt like I lost something. They will never know. They are going through enough with the transition and just need love and support from me and that’s what they will get because that’s what they deserve. Some part of me will still sit here and grieve.
