It’s my body
I tighten my breast to my chest with a thin rubber layer.
I stuff socks in my pants to pass the gender norms.
I listen that I’m not boy enough to pass but not girly sufficient to use the lady restroom.
My Brain is confused between making me happy or making my family ok.
I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I can’t live like this anymore.
I would instead run then stay another day as a woman.
My body is made for me.
My body is known to me.
My body is the only mine.