Femininity and white trash in my bones. Running through my veins,
And I’m hiding curves and beer bellies under a black hoodie.
They know now, and they’re coming for me,
This will never be a fair fight,
Them, equipped with ignorance and bliss.
Armed only with the knowledge that I tried.
My heritage is a lonely one,
Born into a world where I cannot breath.
And every hill is a mountain,
Every day: a cliff.
And I’m standing at the edge of the plank.
With this world, and these people,
I may just find serenity in leaving.
Yet still, the hairs on the back of my neck want to stay,
And there’s no place like home,
And there’s femininity in beer bellies.
I wish I was born here,
Maybe things would be easier- probably not.
I wish I was just beer bellies,
Or just the other one,
I wish this was easy,
I wish she wasn’t dead.
I wish I was.
I wish I died at 12 and was reborn here.
I wish I could go home,
But I can’t find it on this map.
The map is broken,
And you’re not listening to me.
I’m just a kid,
Unwanted and unnoticed.
Every inch I move hurts like a poem about that thing,
The other one.
And I’m hiding in this costume because I like it,
It itches just right,
And it’s starting to smell nice.
There’s another suit at the end of the tunnel,
Vacant, but it smells like life, and fire.
I wonder if there was once another lost kid in it.
I take it before they can notice,
I run to the cottage on the hill,
I don’t jump,