Him

She looks like him sometimes

some guy I used to know

I loved him, so pretty

fresh crisp youth, sun-baked

femininity

he was how I knew

that I wasn’t like the rest of them

I wanted to make him mine

I asked him to be my valentine

I waited for sparks to fly

Nothing ever caught my eye

Until her

But I tried

With him.

He was so pretty, so dear

What a pity he asked me

A gynophile, a predator

A wolf who wants to be in him

Sure, let’s date

I’d love to participate

in this thing called love

I tried to love him but all I saw was her

She blinded my minds eye

What even is a woman

Something I can’t stand?

Something I can’t have

Someone I can’t be

Men are safer, easier

More predictable than me.

I would love to be him,

Dating, flirting, being free

I wish I could call myself a dyke

It would make the most sense.

It would be the easiest explanation

No more needing to pretend

I see him when I see her

I wish it didn’t matter

Gender, so arbitrary in nature

A nature I’m defying

I am him, I am her

They tell me “try saying ‘them’!”

Fucking what the fuck is that

I’m just me, not plural

I am not a them

My sexuality doesn’t make sense

My gender doesn’t make sense

All the theories I’ve read are clearly

Meant to help me understand

Self-love is second best

To love you didn’t ask for

I’d change my gender, I’d reset myself

If I only knew the password.


Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: