"Her"

Jul 1, 2017

784

1 Min Read

Her.

Who was she?

She was pink

She was feminine

She wanted her hair to be long

She wanted to paint her nails and fit in

She didn't want to hide

She wanted to not live in fear

But she was not me

I am blue

I am masculine

I want my hair to be short

I want my nails to be clean of polish

I want to hide and never cry in public

I'd rather live in fear than to be someone other than myself

But I must apologize for destroying her so I could live

For having dreams of have a flat chest

For wondering if I should go on hormones

For wanted my voice to be deep

For wanting to be me

For wanting to kill her so I would have a chance at life

I wanted to be me so badly I destroyed her

But she is still there

When I hear my dead name called

When I answer to “she”

When I wear pink because I felt strong

Dead Name,

I'm sorry you have to die for our body to make it

I'm sorry that everything we look in the mirror we have to find a way to push you away

I'm sorry that your name will arise only to be scorned at by us

I'm sorry we dream of being free of you

We never hated you

You are part of us

But you are the part that is like sand to glass and like an egg to a bird

We must mold you to become us and we might lose you in the process

We must hold you close yet keep you far enough away for us to be ourselves

Our mind is not intact enough for us to keep you here without locking you away

And once it is we might resurrect you

But you are a part of us that must disappear for us to live

And you know that

You know that

You know we don't want to live in fear of dying everytime we step outside

You know that we don't want to have a estimated life span of 23

We don't want to lose you but to break free of the cocoon and become a butterfly you must shed the skin of the caterpillar

We both know

We know

We know that if you stayed we wouldn't make it

And we must make it to prove that we are strong

Life is a war that is constantly fought with yourself

And either you die or you win

We want to win

But with you we would die

Because to win you must overcome the strings and break free of your own prison

You must learn to create the cocoon and become a butterfly

You must melt the sand around you and create glass

You must be you

So I'm sorry that we must kill you

I'm sorry we can't speed up the process

But I'm not sorry that we are becoming ourselves

Yours, Masculinity

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&quot;Her&quot;

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Story Language:

"Her"