you don’t know what you are
but you know that you’re different
and you know that they don’t understand
how you can look in the mirror
and see everything except the right answer

they don’t understand
why you cut your hair
why you threw away your favorite dress
they don’t understand
that you’re running

you’re running away from that feeling
that not-right, not-girl feeling
buried deep under your skin

and you don’t have the words to describe it,
not yet, anyway

but you can feel it
and you keep stumbling away from it

and you keep stumbling towards yourself
like a moth towards a flame

and you’re stumbling
towards that recognition in your eyes
your eyes in the mirror
looking back at yourself

and one day you will know

that the absence of fear is as solid
as any bone
any organ
any sickness creeping

slowly
slowly
slowly

through your stomach
and your veins

and,
one day,
you will beat the sickness to the punch
and you’ll sit there
throwing up your pronouns in the bathroom sink
clinging to the lifelines
on the palms of your hands

your not-girl hands

wiping away the fog on the mirror
so that you can look at yourself
and,
for the first time in a long time,
really, truly, see yourself

and that
that is the first step
the first step towards being something
something real

someone real
someone scared
but someone real

and the truth of it will hurt
but you’ll finally have your answer

and one day,
one day,
you will find yourself on the other side of the mirror
looking back at who you were
and that weight
will be lifted

and you will be okay