Halfway There

Where am I who am I what am I doing how are all my senses coordinated
Where is my sense of self? Who is this girl inside me? Are all of her words my own, or all of mine hers? Does makeup and dress make me more her? Can her voice speak more clearly through me then? I want the sound of her sentences in my mouth all the time, I want her charisma in my conversations; I want to see the light of her eyes reflected in others’ faces. I feel like I am becoming so open and beautiful inside but this is not matched by the man I pass as outside… I feel like neither of these things are enough yet.
I want men’s words out of my mouth
I want men’s actions out of my hands
I want men’s features out of your eyes as you stare at me
I want womanhood all over me
I want to taste the flavors of love and empathy and kindness and closeness all the time these are the warmest and most wonderful things I associate with being a girl these are the muscles I wish to constantly flex and letters I always want to write and send
I do not want to be a grey haired old man
I know that is a basic feeling but they are always marketed to me as the white norm on television and the world seems to be telling me He is who I’m meant to be
He is trash and I hate him
I want to know what my grandmother thinks womanhood is
I want to know if I can be inside it
But I am too afraid to ask
Why am I too afraid to ask
The wheel of fortune man looks like a criminal