old wounds

i still don’t know

if i have been able to properly

express the sheer terror

of being seven years old

and realizing i liked girls

but that i

myself

was not a girl

words like homosexual

and transgender

did not exist to me

and were adamantly not

taught about in schools

this lack of knowledge

not knowing that i could

be anything beyond that

six letter word on

my birth certificate

the only conclusion

i was able to come to

as a scared child

was that i must 

have been a 

freak

there was something wrong

with me and within me

feeling my guts twist

every time i was called

a girl and not knowing why

it hurt so bad

and now

as a young man

i am able to find words that 

downplay this nine years

of confusion and turmoil

shaping that pain into

something that is palatable

i do not have to do this

nor should i be expected to

but it is easier than saying

i was hellbent on destroying

the body i had because it

was not what it was supposed to be

it is easier than saying

i was willing to die

as a girl

if that meant the pain would stop