the old shirt

"him"

again

the same word

the wrong pronoun

my own lips betraying me

I know why I do it

playing out the old narrative

constantly

trying to play a dead character

a man I killed in my head

the boy I was never meant to be

"him"

again

I said it of myself

and I know why

trying to hide behind "him" again

a fiction I invented to survive

because "them" is so 'pretentious'

"him"

again

I know why I do this

because it's a powerful narrative

isn't it?

speaking of "him"

so much more powerful

than to speak of "them"

because I am "them"

and I don't think they will listen to them

until I stop playing this hiding game

training my own lips

teaching them not to disown me

teaching them not to take part in self-hatred

teaching them not to dress me in "him"

teaching them not to make me be a dead boy

a dead gender

a bad, old t-shirt I used to wear to fit in

"him"

blue

snips and snails

puppy dog tails

all binned

so that I can be true to myself

because whether they see me as I am

the first step is to see myself as I am

"them"

-o0o-