Do You Like What I've Done To The Place?
Every time someone would ask me my sexuality,
I would feel the words get caught in my throat
And I’d try my hardest not to swallow them down.
If only I could do something brave,
Like tell the truth.
But it was hard enough to come out as gay,
How could I ever stand to
Salt the wound?
Add gasoline to the flames?
When I came out,
It felt a lot more like an apology.
I cannot bear another I’m sorry.
I would not dare to make this anymore complicated.
But see,
My gender is a puzzle I can never seem to piece together.
I have woman stitched up inside of me
And everyday I take apart the threads.
She is so easy to leave
But so hard to stay gone.
I try paint a picture of who I feel I’m meant to be
But it seems like I’ll never be a masterpiece
People think I do it for show
Until they realize that I've never dropped the act.
I fight myself
Like this is a wrestling match
and I need to win the title.
I wear the word woman but it has never belonged to me.
The costume never seems to fit.
I carry the word woman around like a constant reminder of who I will never be.
I wish I could just put her down.
I hear the word woman and wonder why it never feels like home.
One day I hope I’ll find a way to rearrange this misplaced furniture,
So I can have a place to call my own.
Years from now I’ll look myself in the mirror
And inside of me he’ll ask,
“Do you like what I’ve done with the place?”