Alien

Diagnosed as different

being seen as something odd

Getting strange looks for different things

there is so much wrong with me

making me what I am.

An alien

An outcast to be looked down on

something to be grateful your not

people telling me what I am doesn’t exist,

that I’m confused

I’m just some girl.

I was born as a she

erasing the S is impossible

and will always follow me

My high pitched voice 

piercing only my ears

not wanting to laugh

not wanting to talk

Long hair, cut off

the shortness bringing me comfort

Pronouns and name changed

the difference relieving me.

Binder tight against my chest

harmful but delightfully flat

relieving my discomfort

but only temporarily 

But here they come

ready to criticize

Their tones harsh and disbelieving

telling me I am what I was born as

insisting I can’t be male

insisting on causing dysphoria

Confused by the supposedly

simple concept of gender

still unsure

their voices are not the only ones criticizing me.