The blanket that covers my window fell

And the moon strikes my eyes 

Through the frosty window

I sit there awake, surrounded by lies

The sky is dark

It’s 3 A.M.

I cannot sleep

I sit there awake, thinking of them

“You are beautiful”

“You are gorgeous”

“You are my granddaughter”

“You are a ‘she,’ denying that is dangerous”

I sit in the cold

I sit there and cry

Thinking of the labels forced upon me

Wishing people wouldn’t pry

I am not beautiful

I am not gorgeous

I am not your granddaughter

I am not a she, and saying I am is torturous

I am masculine

I am handsome

I am your grandson

I am a he, and saying otherwise won’t change the outcome

I can’t change this

I won’t fake myself for anyone’s pleasure

I’m not sorry for who I am

I live for me, and me in the future

I love you, dad

And I’m sorry mom

That the old me is gone

But you didn’t lose your daughter, you gained a son