Here to end1.Looking up into brown eyesand dark hair barely at your earsI know you will be my every day.Florescence under our favorite kind of sky.2.Short bursts of sound and three triesto open my eyes and I find only confusionin white walls3.Looking down at closed lidsand dark hair wild I know this will be the end day.4.You're gone nowand I would take even the worst morning breath to stop mourning that there is no breath in your ribs.
Let me be XYMy chromosomes are wrong.My breasts are wrong.My hips are wrong.My space is wrong.I am in a shell, a prison.Stuck.Trapped, glued by 'miss', 'she', 'lady', my XXA sticky, thick mixture of feminine. I have never been me.Few people know who I really am.Him. He. His.Mr.I am Tristan, and I'm a normal boy. I just happen to be a biological SHE.But no one sees me, no matter how hard I try,I want to scream out for all to hear:Just let me be XY