Safe to Be Me (Part 1)
Practicing makeup behind closed doors,
the one night a week I give myself
to slip fully into
my feminine identity.
Longing for a world
where it’s safe to be me,
two souls in one body,
home to two genders,
more than what you see.
Missing the nail polish on my fingertips,
happiness in a bottle
sacrificed to fear, family obligation,
Misgendered in most situations,
in every restaurant,
Grateful for the precious pockets of fellowship
in my life
where I can breathe
and be seen
and present any way I want to.
from so much of my life
because I’m waiting
for I don’t even know what.
Maybe things that will never come.
Maybe things that will never change.
Because it feels like I will never find, create, or shape a world
where it is
safe to be me.
i’m non-binary and relate to this in such a big way.
i’m also a makeup artist if you ever want to play!
(didn’t mean for that to rhyme, but since this is for poetry…i’m leaving it!)
I would love that! Thank you!