It\'s been going on for months now.
They continue to paint me pink
She, her, daughter, female
How do you tell someone you\'re not a girl?
Of course, I will always be biologically female-
But what does that have to do with anything?
I don\'t know how much more I can take.
I\'m not your daughter, your girlfriend, your niece.
I\'m not a she.
I am your child, your partner, your sibling\'s kid.
What do I prefer?
They, please
Please put down the pink paint,
Listen to me, now.
I\'m not a girl
I\'m not a boy.
I am merely a human,
Barely surviving and on the verge of tears.
Whenever people reference me as \"female\",
Another knife pierces my skin.
I wish someone respected my gender
Maybe they can pull the knives out of my back.
Until then, I continue to suffer in silence
My mouth gagged, unable to speak my mind.
I can\'t wait until I meet that one person
Who will ask me one lifesaving question;
\"What do you prefer?\"
And for once, I\'ll be able to answer through happy tears:
\"They, please.\"