This may be explored in more detail elsewhere. Who knows?
And if I’d been a girl,
Would you have loved me any more?
If I’d been one of those sweet little things,
Born in May or June,
Jaunting around the school with a soft summer frock,
The object of all their desires,
Long shimmering red hair dancing in the breeze,
Beautiful and brilliant as all the best people are?
And what if I hacked it off right now?
Hacked off the fucking thing, bled all over the floor,
Renounced my baptism, my entry into this sad, blasted state,
Spat out my male-ness,
Entered into communion with the wannabes and those whose delight lies elsewhere?
What then would you say?
Would you accept me as one of you?
Or am I a reject, an outcast, thrown from the thrones of heaven,
Debarred from the club, banned, cast out and scorned forever?
I cannot remodel myself with razors or blades
This world has me,
And of myself there is but one,
As there is of the world