Author: Cassandra Anderson
If only you couldn’t see me.
Then I would be free.
Not just he
or my lady
but designated as nobody.
I feel more in line with a moss-covered tree
than I ever will in a dress that goes down to my knees.
I’d take the form of a monster that bends reality
or maybe even a forest that’s never seen vitamin D.
A cloaked figure with a cat that’s feathery.
A empty parking lot with a staticky TV.
A Potato Head with no accessories floating at sea
is the only way I can describe my gender envy.
It changes so much it’s just a skeleton key.
This statement shouldn’t have to be gutsy
but limiting gender to the idea of pink and blue is just crappy.