i have decided on today,
that i want to look like her.
i want to wear what she wears.
it does not have to be exact, but i want to be her
the way her chocolate brown hair bounces
freely on her muscled back sends shot glasses
of envy surging thorugh my blood.
her fragrance is intoxicating.
her lilac spray mixed with a touch of
rosemary sugar intrigues me.
mom. i want to look like A her.
i know, i know
i was born a him... but The she's
are so... me
everytime i stare at my boyish chest...
my heart seems to collapse
something is missing, mom
and im not talking about the supple breast
that are supposed to dance on my chest when i move
mom. i need you to look at me.
i need you to stare at me like you did
before you knew about what i wanted to be.
i put it behind me, if that's what you want
i have been doing everything that you want
but i can't think what you want.
i can not ever be who you want.
Mom, maybe if you just
took your head out of your coffee cup,
you would notice that I am still your little
Mom, please. I wanna look like her.
but i don't want to lose you.
i can trade myself in, but i can't trade you in
Mom, if you don't look at me
how will you ever know how sorry i am?
look at me.
Mother, i can not be a dad.
i can NEVER replace dad.
no amount of cologne sprays
and monster trucks for Special Days can change that
Mom, look at me.
or don't look at me.
i am not sorry. i will not cowar behind
60s beliefs and 'could ofs'
i've tried my hardest, but i will never
pretend. not even for you.
i love you mom. but i love myself more.