Dystopia

A lot of people take it for granted.

But I wouldn’t.

Give me what I want.

Give me what I need.

All I want to do is live in the utopia everyone says this is.

I wanted to grow up like them.

I wanted to grow up without the fear of death baking behind me getting ready to overflow and take me with it.

I want to live.

But not in these circumstances.

Where any room I step into, I have a chance of trauma.

Where someone could misgender me,

Deadname me,

Say something thats a little too personal,

Something that hits a little too close to home.

Or even worse…

They could do something…

They could punch me, kick me, spit on me, I would never feel clean again.

All I wanted was to be like them.

I still want that.

Why do I have to go through this instead?

I just wanted a life like them. 

Who wouldn’t?

I’d love to be able to make jokes during class without any fear of getting in trouble,

Run through the halls pushing past others,

Maybe even play sports with people just like me.

Wear shorts in the winter, funky shorts.

Or be a neon adidas kid who’s always saying, “It’s not even cold!”

I wanna be everyone’s first pick in sports!

I want to be a boy like them.

You can’t tell me this is a utopia until you’ve lived through what I have.

I’m only 13..

I still have so much life left in me.

Do I have to live it here?

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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