waking up

brings more questions than answers.

i am forced into consciousness

and to a decision:

who will i be today?

 

will today be a day

of flowing dresses,

tinkling laughs,

and drugstore eyeliner

served with a side

of girlish politeness?

a high voice,

undoubtedly feminine,

sprinkling ‘thank you’

left and right,

is that who i want to be?

 

or will today be a day

of ripped skinny jeans

and chest binders

so restricting

(i can’t breathe)

i’m forced to walk

with tight confidence,

a steely look

in my gunmetal eyes?

an unbroken voice,

(questionably) masculin,

stating each sentence

barren of doubt,

is that who I want to be?

 

or will today be a day

(an ordinary day)

where I’m stuck in the middle

(again)

a constant tug-of-war

forcing me to

DECIDE!

who I want to be.

a day where

i’m relegated to the single-stall nurses’ bathroom

where no glares

lurk in the candy colored faces

of perfect girls

and no words

hide in the forked-tongue mouths

of perfect boys.

 

but still,

i wake up;

with questions,

yes,

but with hope too.

i wake up

because i hope

no

i know

there will be a better tomorrow,

and someday,

that tomorrow

will be today.