They Call Me She

They look at me and they think “she”.
They see my chest and my hair,
They see the clothes I’m forced to wear,
They hear my voice and they think “her”.

They don’t think about me,
They don’t give me a choice.
They label me “woman”
But without my permission.

They think they know all about me because I look female,
But they don’t know that that’s not who I am.
They reprimand me for trying to be masculine,
And give me looks for hiding my physique.

They think I just don’t want to talk to people,
But they forget they won’t like what I say.
They don’t give me the space to be myself,
Or even learn who I’m supposed to be.
They would just laugh if I said “Call me they”
And say “You’re just a she!”

They don’t see me crying,
Feeling trapped in my own skin,
They don’t know the torture,
Of when your body won’t match your brain.

But my family’s here to save me,
A group of misfits, weirdos and freaks.
We understand each other’s pain
We pull us all out of the dark.
Once we all work together, our lights will never be snuffed out.

We’ll take over the castle,
And preach our stories wide,
We’ll spread the words of acceptance,
Of happiness and pride.
We’ll dedicate our lives to the fight and to resist,
For no one in the world deserves to feel as we did.