intrinsic sense of self,
perplexing but plain,
empty but expected not to be.
constant within the ceaseless shifts,
chaos within the placid glimpses of stiffness.
desultory, bewildering desires
of being perceived,
of not being perceived.
why must I choose one
or the other?
I feel futile trying to commit to roles that are hindering
the transposition of my kernel to the surface.
quenching my thirst of reassurance
by tossing furtive intimations to pensive people.
perhaps they will recognize pieces of themselves if they glance at me,
or maybe our differences would not scare them away.
eyebrow gel on my upper lip,
black tape over my numb heart.
I am running my fingers through his wet mullet
dashing through the heavy rain,
drowning in expectations.
my gender is toiling to blossom.
