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"Pretty Girl" (A Poem About Being Transgender)
Beaten but
breathing, still, somehow,
I’ve got the disease in my veins but
I do my best to ignore it,
A curse placed upon me when I
was born with the name
‘Girl.’
Pretty girl, beautiful
woman, how lovely it is
to trace the curves of your body
along the edge of my fingertips..
Loving miss, precious damsel,
you’ve made the thin hairs
that brush the back of my neck
stand up, but not so much
as to run away from the
light your feminine means
allow.
Pretty girl, beautiful woman,
a body so beautiful, so curvy that I
might fall in love with the sight of you,
long hair that traces down your back in
rich color, but it’s not enough to hide the
boxers you are clad in.
Loving miss, precious damsel,
that body of yours could make
a man so happy, yet you
wish to be with women, yet you
wish to shave your head, yet you
wish to be someone else
entirely.
They call you
Pretty girl, beautiful woman,
Loving miss, precious damsel,
when all you wanted to be
was a good and honest man.
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This is about my experience in being trans (I am biologically female, but my gender is male), and the words my father/loved one/relatives/friends/strangers have used as a way of complimenting me, whilst not knowing that it was an insult I simply never pointed out.