dysphoria

'she,'
and that name
with a soft 'ey' sound at the end.

this is how dysphoria tends to begin.

'this is my daughter,'
that one really gets me,
'isn't she beautiful?'

beautiful isn't a bad thing to be called
but i'd rather be rugged. but i'd rather be masculine.
but i'd rather be swallowed up whole.

when i told her, she said
'it is just your hormones,'
and 'you will always be my daughter,'
and 'you are just insecure.'

(which isn't true because
my body is nice, but for a girl.
but for someone with soft skin and
big eyes and dips for hips.)

but i shouldn't worry, because she says
'she'll always love me.'

love me, but your version of me.
this is not me. my body is still a prison.
i am still locked up. i am still a mess.

and you wonder why i tried to self-destruct.