Blonde hair hangs heavy
Soft to the touch and coated with oil
Barely touches the shoulder
As it curls outward
He wishes it was longer
Clad in black band t-shirts
Skinny jeans that were outgrown years ago
Sneakers accumulated grunge
His feet prefer to be bare
As well as his legs
Straightness defines his body
No curves
No waves
He yearns for the softness of shape
The feeling of roundness
And a pair of hips
Beneath his fingers
Polish to adorn his nails
And studs through his ears
Among other things

His blue eyes cry sad memories
They speak words no one else knows
This is not my body and never will be
Until I reclaim my stolen femininity

She strips off her mask
Her false identity
Spins around
Blonde curls cascade down her back
A shimmery black dress swirls
Making waves
Along with a pair of silver stilettos
Leaving a legacy wherever she walks
Black lace gloves guide the way
Acrylic nails
And smoky eyes
That tell stories without words

Paint me female
She says standing tall and proud
Your words can’t hurt me
They never have
And never will
I am stronger than I ever was before
If you try to break me one more time
I will kick you with my stilettos
And whack you with my purse