boys

i was born on the prettiest of all 12 turns,

a pathway into life i, once learned,

figured was not difficult, but just wrong.

not even love could fix what was really going on.

i spin in shirts filled with pink and ribbon,

i spin in dance studios with the life i was given,

i spin in dresses that make my waist feel bitten,

i spin in all of the words i’ve ever written,

hearts, hopes, loves i could never flourish,

in starts and ends and something with purpose,

i am the lights to keep on and furniture that needs a refurbish

i am that wind on a cold and ugly day,

i am the inconvenience that can never get away,

i am the problem, i am the rat,

i am the one who makes me feel like that,

its only a feeling, it could never be real,

its not good for me to feel how i feel,

and it’s hard to say but i’d love to be coy,

please, for the love of god, stop making it so hard to be a –