Try combing your hair when you realize there's nothing left
You'll never tuck long locks and curly curls behind your ears
Or sweep those impossible tangles over your shoulder
It was time for a change
To spruce up your bland scenery
That consists of you and me
Gray and black and white
You've buzzed off everything to shed the old identity
That wasn't you and me
There was the you that you saw when looking in the cracked mirror of society
In the eyes of your mother you were her first little girl
The one to be dressed in the pink frills of her
Dark and oppressed childhood
After the boys with their masculine ways we have feminine bodies to be “cherished” and “saved”
Allow her to pamper with love and decorate with her own memories
You've been draped in the folds of a picture-perfect girl
You are the boy your parents have already had
You are the girl, the lady, the miss, everyone else sees
First
It's a mirage of flaky fakeness but no longer hidden inside you
Lifting the veil of “my imagined me”
Exiting a door that was locked from the outside
This is like
Extraordinary
Never contrary
Like
Supercilious
Spontaneous
Never ending discovery of your real me.