gender is so weird, I am in no way shape, or form a man but I'd rather be perceived that way- I am feminine but in such a sense that someone stating it makes me rot inside.

And yet, the female experience is so deeply rooted in my chest that I can’t bear to simply be an observer.

I am “he” not as a man but in the way you address a strange creature you find- and I am “she” not as a woman but as a feeling.

I am a brother to my siblings yet a sister to a stranger- I am a boy but I still have an ache in my bones telling me to run when alone with a man, I still have a hair tie that does not belong to me on my wrist, I still see a part of me in every girl I see walk by.

I am not blue and I am not pink. I'm not even purple, or a forest green. I think I am gray, I am what you get when you take it all away. there are only remnants of what once were, fingerprints on an empty frame. Each scratch on the frame tells a story, but none have a name.