There was once, and occasionally is,
This being inside
of me wanting
To burst out of my
shell and become
Tarzan, or Peter
Pan, or Batman.
To exit alongside
my heroes
Running wild, doing brave deeds.
So far away from where I live,
So close to where my heart beats.
Never acknowledging the world
Will never tire trying to stop
Me from moving forward.
The force of its hate, dismissal,
And rejection, so prevailing;
Making it mightily difficult
To keep my young legs pumping
Along the path I travel.
Why can I not recognize
The difference between me
And my heroes? It is not
In scope or strength that our
Ways depart, but in that
One word, that I am, but
Don’t own. That word that
Seeks, but is rarely spoken.
Girl.