Ayup my dudes? It’s sad boy hours (here’s a vent/free verse Poem)

Haven’t wrote free verse in a while so it’s probably more vent than Poem but whatever. [[Tw for mtf gender dysphoria]]

Why couldn’t I be her?

Every time I hear those words that are meant to be sweet, 

Laced with honey yet make me feel sick to my stomach.

And it’s not that I’m unappreciative, no, 

I’m simply tired of lying awake at night wondering why I couldn’t be the ‘princess’ I was called as a child.

I’m so sick of my body feeling wrong and words feeling like they aren’t aimed towards me.

Those words were for her. 

Why couldn’t I be her?

It’s not that I don’t want to be, 

I wish I could feel okay in my own skin, laugh as I’m taught to wear makeup and paint my nails.

Why couldn’t I be her?

I’m tired of wishing my father would buy me a suit for a school dance and teach me to tie a tie, 

buy my mother buys a dress for **her** instead. 

I’m tired of the gut-wrenching feeling whenever I look in the mirror and she stares back, or gazing down a little too far and wishing I had a clear view of the floor.

I’m tired of not being able to sleep because my body is *wrong* and it’s not *mine*. It’s hers. 

(And sometimes I lie awake at night laying on my stomach, imagining that there’s no more weight on my chest.)

(But that’s not here nor there.)

I’m tired of family reunions, little cousins who look up to *her* for being a *girl* like *them*. 

Sometimes I wonder how disappointed they’d be if they knew who I am.

That I’m not her.

I wish I could be her.

I’m sorry I can’t be her.

Why couldn’t I just be her?