I wasn’t a boy.
As much as they called me “Him” or He,”
I wasn’t a boy.
However, the only one that cared was me.

I wasn’t a boy.
I swear to God, it wasn’t a lie.
I wasn’t a boy.
It wasn’t my fault that my body wouldn’t comply.

I wasn’t a boy.
I wore dresses and bows.
I wasn’t a boy.
Still, nobody knows.

I wasn’t a boy.
I was a girl on the inside.
I wasn’t a boy.
They teased me so bad, I eventually just lied.

I was a boy.
I was silly and stupid.
I was a boy.
Although I was still excluded.

I was a boy.
Broken by conformity.
I was a boy.
But in my mind, I was still a girl, albeit one that blended into obscurity.