middle man

i have always lived in this place that is somewhere in the middle of the suburbs and the ghetto

    and by that i mean: the kids can play in the street without having to worry about gun fights, but i hear sirens pass my window every night.

    i live across the street from a mormon church, but there are bullet holes in my house from the kids who used to meet there. 

i have always felt somewhere in the middle of male and female

    leaning more towards masculinity because it felt safe, but having feminine ways of speaking.

    i dress androgynously and i do not wear make-up in fear that my face and this body will attract the wrong pronouns.

    passing is not a privilege that i have ever had, but i am trying to accept that.

i have always been the middle child

    in the shadow of an older sister who achieved (and is still achieving) so many great things.

    the supposed mentor to my younger sister, who is much smarter than i could ever be.

               but could a brother like me really show her what life is supposed to be like

              and how she should act?

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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