No, no I'm not alright.
I thought I was okay when I thought I got over them. I thought everything was fine when I thought I knew who I was, but then they come in and tell me who I am and who I'm supposed to be.
But low, I'm not even Trans* enough.
I'm not Trans* enough because I'm apprehensive about taking T.
I'm not Trans* enough because I'm not constantly ogling over girls.
I'm not Trans* enough because I like to wear dresses from time to time.
I'm not Trans* enough because I don't work out at the gym.
I'm not Trans* enough because I like to Sew and Bake.
I'm not Trans* enough because I didn't 'come out' when I was 3.
I'm not Trans
I used to wear dresses and play with dolls,
While wishing I was playing in the mud.
I used to go shopping and wear lots of pink,
While wondering what boxers would feel like.
Now I know what I am, I don't question for a second.
But everyone else,
What do they see?
I look like a boy through and through,
Everyone calls me a he at first.
Then I talk to them.
My voice is high.
They notice something is up.
And they apologize.
And I die a little inside.
"May I go to my locker?"
"Yes, ma'am, you may."
Can't you see that I'm a boy, are you blind?
My full name... What boy is named that?
Mother, why? Why label me this?
There's a boy