thoughts of transcending genders; the internal persona speaks.

Who am I?

To me, I know who I am

Just a man

With dreams

And plans

And things

I dress my version of me

I speak my version of me

I do my version of me

I don't ask your version of me

Because your version isn't me

Surprise!  It never will be

And the masses think that it is okay

To tell me I should be this way

And not that

And it's not okay

It's not okay

Tomorrow or today

To say what they say

Because it makes me stronger

Me myself and I -- all of us stronger

Stronger in my convictions

And in my desires

My plans, my dreams, my things

But before it makes me stronger

It hurts.

And nobody gets to hurt me but me

And I do plenty of that on my own...

How can I make it any more clear...

That I AM

A man

Regardless what's in my pants

Or what's hidden in my crotch

Is it some sick fantasy of theirs

To bring up what's there

As if it defines me?

Because it doesn't.

And it never has...

And it never will...

What defines me is what's in my head

What's in my heart

What's in my soul

And what's in all three --

I choose to share with the world.

And I package it with my clothes

And my scent

And my sentiments

And my love

My love which is not yours

Nor for anybody else

I am just a man.

And before that, I am human

Who lives, breathes, bleeds, and thinks

And feels

And wishes and hopes

And eagerly wants to be bigger than he is...

Just like anybody else who wears skin.

I am human.

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