don’t wanna be

a good girl anymore

don’t wanna

wake up early for work, put on nice slacks clean

button down shirt–as andro as I dare

to dress at this job where I

already have to explain words

like ‘transgender’

to co-workers.  I’m

tired of being the spokesperson

the acceptable,

approachable kind of gay

the girl next door

the one who can pass just under

your straight-line radar

Some days I wanna be the one you

wonder about on the train

Is she…? A…?

Or just a hipster? I can’t tell

which

I can’t tell sometimes whether

I wanna be a downright bitch or just

an outlaw

want to yank words like ‘sorry’ and ‘thanks’

right out of my vocabulary like weeds

from the ground

retune my socialized vocal cords to

sound tougher

sling ‘cunt’ and ‘fucker’

casual as throwing seeds

to the ground

whatever it takes

I just don’t want to be the same

as them

I don’t wanna be a good girl

anymore, I’m sick of this game

this bait-and-switch gender-codes

I wanna explode

minds, spraypaint over stereotypes

with my restlessness

ride a bike reckless the wrong way

down the one-way street of their ignorance

I don’t want to be

what they expect of me

if I flirt with the cute tattooed boi working as

a checkout clerk, if I show up

hungover to work or wear

my favorite hat and tie to the grocery store

Will anyone see

who I am if I don’t fit

inside their lines anymore?


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