I thought
   I could change the world
   and leave a mark,
but I failed.

I thought
   I could excel at work
   and support a family,
but I failed.

I thought
   I could keep a healthy body
   and a lucid mind,
but I failed.

Now there’s nothing left
and for the first time I feel free.

I always have high expectations for summer
Not sure why I allow myself to do this every year
Maybe it’s because I’m trying to leave the school year on campus
And escape the people who make me unhappy
But then I’m let down each summer by the people who are supposed to make me happy

This summer it was a boy who told me I wasn’t a second choice but then still wanted someone else
Last summer it was the high school friends who told me it would be forever but then still had a list of complaints on me

My birthday comes around in July and I’m reminded of when I was suicidal at 14
Because everyone forgot my birthday so clearly I shouldn’t have been born.
I wanted to quietly step off a pier and die on the rocks but my brother sitting beside me kept me grounded

The summer is coming to an end now and I’m terrified for school
I don’t want any high expectations and be let down
A perpetual cycle of being excited and let down over and over
And when I see the girls who pushed me to the side I hope that do not cower in fear
A new school year is dawning and the unknown is in front of me

Being a person is hard because
When you want to be bad
You have to be good.
You have to keep doing
What you know that you should.

You want to be angry?
That stuff ain't allowed
You simply must ***** it out
You must be quiet- and anger is loud.

Being a person is hard because
When you need to be alone
People need you to be theirs.
And then suddenly you don't matter
Your life is consumed by their cares.

You want to have feelings?
Oh, we don't like those here.
We frown upon sadness
We don't accept fear.

Humankind sings the songs of freedom
And "goodwill to all men" too
But we help you forget that "all men"
Also means being good to you.

Being a person is theoretically easy
It's the strings attached that make it hard
But the strings- they tie you down and then
Like glass, they break you to a single shard.

were you in love
with the feeling,
or with the person
you were trying
to become

you were disappointed
a hundred times,
unconsciously
hurting her

maybe you were just
overshadowed
by your expectations,
turned you
into holding on
to a ghost

Wicked eyes
Pretty lies
Strong fists

What everyone expects...
with a twist.

I am a woman.
Or so I'm told.
But how can I be a woman,
When the me in the mirror
Doesn't match the me in my head,
Because I just can't comprehend
Seeing ****?
When I want to peel my skin off
Because it itches at the seams,
Of the stitched in expectations
Of my ***?
When the people all around me
Laugh and say “it's natural”
When I dare to express my discomfort,
And it seems I'm the only one
Who struggles with the day to day
Of existing as a “miss”,
And my name doesn't fit unless it's shortened?
So I strap down my chest
So you can't see it.
But still my face screams woman,
And my voice
And my hips
And that ever ******,
Mother ******* “MISS”.
I know my **** are still there,
Their discomfort physical now,
Not just a mental ache.
And every month I bleed,
And it's like my body's betraying me.
But the whole world says that's just the way it is.

I'm tired of the way it is.
I'm tired of your boxes.
I climb out of one
To be kicked into another,
Not a woman, fine.
So I must want to be a man?
I must want to join the ranks
Of the people that have disgusted me,
Debased me
And repulsed me?
Of the people making sport
Of the gender I have lived with?
No.
No.
I won't live with a gender,
With your ******* expectations,
Or your games
Or your stupid little boxes.
Pink,
Or blue?
I LIKE ******* BOTH.
I want hairy legs,
But not a hairy chest.
I don't want ****,
But I don't want a ***** either.
I want long hair,
Without assumptions I'm a girl.

I want to exist outside society.
It's broken.

I loved you
like I was never hurt before

You left me
like you'd never hoped for more