femininity.

I want to reverse the roles

I want to be stereotypically masculine, for a day
for a night
to see what it’s like
I want to wear sports jackets
and style my hair with too much gel
encase secrets that I’ll never tell

blunt fingernails and a chapped mouth
the inability to detect when things go south
fluffy hair that I always cut
just when it reaches the perfect length
vulnerability, hidden with strength

bruises on knuckles from hitting walls in a rage
and finally making a decent wage
a deep voice and an echoing laugh
people asking for my autograph

I want to be stereotypically masculine
and I want to write poetry
to watch the shadows on my own hand
enhanced by protruding veins
never a loss, only a gain

I want to write about romance and roses
the kind of guy who always proposes
to have a solidified friend group I go to
knowing they’ll help me, whatever I go through

to high-five strangers and shake the hands of employers
always able to sweet-talk the lawyers
the kind of face
that looks a little out of place
if it isn’t smiling
with Hollywood teeth, pearly and shining

And then I want to go back
to my femininity
forever
to remember what it is like
the stretchmarks and dimpled thighs
I want to wear a skirt that fits me just right

I want chipped nails and ponytails
spraying a cloud of my signature smell
I want heeled boots and knotted hair
surrounded by people who do not care

open palms and crooked teeth
always forgetting the day of the week
stomach cramps and thighs stained red
uterus lining beginning to shed

patchy foundation and a constant longing
to find a place that feels like belonging
underestimated and expected to fail
trying to escape the shadows of males
pretty and kind, yet going through hell
judgemental looks as soon as I yell

I want to be feminine
even though it has so many strings attached
so many risks of being attacked

I want to be feminine
though it is the harder of the two
to show other women
they are going to get through.

22:35pm — 17/11/23.