I.

I hate having a body.

Headaches dull my days.

I want to rip out

all this facial hair.

I want real breasts.

I hate how rough

my legs look

because I can’t stop

scratching them.

I wish I was coordinated enough

to wear contacts.

I want to be thinner.

I want a body

that can be

whatever I want it to be

whenever.

I want to have  a pussy

without giving up my cock.

I want to be female

but maybe still

be male

on the odd occasion.

I thought

I was going to

look like

Julia Roberts

someday.

And someday isn’t coming.

II.

I love looking into the mirror

and seeing the girl

that I feel like.

I love the magic of makeup

even though I am

still learning it.

I love dancing in a dress.

I love my curly, feminine hair.

I love my girlish giggle.

I love my fashion sense.

I love wearing skirts.

I love listening to girly pop.

I love that feeling of rightness

when I’m in my own skin.

I love the stolen time

when I can be my true self.

I love who I am alone

and in safe spaces

without projections

or rejection

or judgment.

I love the girl

who has held on

for over a decade,

patiently waiting

for the life I am building her.