mom.

i have decided on today, 

that i want to look like her.

i want to wear what she wears.

it does not have to be exact, but i want to be her

the way her chocolate brown hair bounces 

freely on her muscled back sends shot glasses

of envy surging thorugh my blood.

her fragrance is intoxicating.

her lilac spray mixed with a touch of

rosemary sugar intrigues me.

mom. i want to look like A her. 

i know, i know

i was born a him... but The she's 

are so... me

everytime i stare at my boyish chest...

my heart seems to collapse 

something is missing, mom

and im not talking about the supple breast

that are supposed to dance on my chest when i move

mom. i need you to look at me.

i need you to stare at me like you did

before you knew about what i wanted to be.

i put it behind me, if that's what you want

i have been doing everything that you want

but i can't think what you want.

i can not ever be who you want.

Mom, maybe if you just

took your head out of your coffee cup,

you would notice that I am still your little 

boy.

Mom, please. I wanna look like her.

but i don't want to lose you.

i can trade myself in, but i can't trade you in

Mom, if you don't look at me

how will you ever know how sorry i am?

MOM

look at me. 

MOM

MOM

Mother, i can not be a dad.

i can NEVER replace dad. 

no amount of cologne sprays 

and monster trucks for Special Days can change that

Mom, look at me.

or don't look at me.

i am not sorry. i will not cowar behind 

60s beliefs and 'could ofs'

i've tried my hardest, but i will never

pretend. not even for you.

i love you mom. but i love myself more.