i grew tired of haunting the girl? that i used to be
banging pots and pans in the middle of the night so many sleepless hours trying to find a name for what for how i felt
this was one waiting game i was not willing to wait out perched at the end of my little twin bed watching a younger version of myself toss and turn sweating out the nightmares
that constant question of why and how long would this last keeping my dentist in business with all those hairline stress fractures in my clenched jaw teeth splintered into something sharper
but never sharp enough to gnaw through the trapped and infected limb that was feeling stuck in a body that was not mine and maybe never had been?
i waited for that little girl to wake up in the body of a young man
i waited for her to open his eyes in the dawn of a new day and be coming home into this body into himself