Dysmorphia

You know
once
I thought I was a boy:
too big, too tall, not feminine enough.

Looking like my brother
not a single sign of mother.
I’m a little girl but confused about my cover
I have the body-but maybe I don’t?
I think I’ll bleed-but maybe I won’t?

I’m a little girl
my body barely grown
can you fucking tell me;
what story do I own?
What the fuck is female
when dysmorphia is home?
What the fuck is my tale
when anxiety has grown?

You tell me what is female
tell me what to do
if it’s not about my vagina
surely it’s my everyday pursuits?

Yet, I don’t know my face
can’t visualize my body
my mind a mental wreck
plagued by symptoms-mind is foggy.

You know,
I use to think
I was a boy
a girl it seemed to me was void
of everything my body meant;
too big, too tall, too masculine,
but then you see
I found the truth within-
genders just the outside skin-present the way that feels the best
it’s biology that dictates sex.
Tell me what it is to be a female;
lipstick, nice hair, and seashells?

Nature and nurture
the real deal
a concept that saved my life-
so surreal,
despite the lies that have been told-
just females,
my body, my own, so unreal

I am a female.
A mix of masculine feminine freedom
owner of a cunt and reason.
Dsymorphia undone
through treatment.

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