Boy/Girl

At first I was nothing, just a little wisp roaming through the backyard.

On the first day of kindergarten, I was a girl when I hung upside down on the monkey bars with my dress covering my eyes.

I was a girl when I found out that the person I was so fascinated with who looked like a boy was actually a girl.

I was a boy in second grade when I liked wearing that camouflage shirt and was too shy to play soccer at recess.

I was a girl in third grade when I painted my nails sparkly green, wore plaid shorts, and started speaking in class.

In fourth grade, I was a boy with a tie dye sweatshirt and friends who liked to play tag at recess.

I was a boy in fifth grade when I bit my fingernails down and mouthed words with no sound coming out.

I was a boy when I played cops and robbers at night and walked along the railroad tracks to the river and rode my bike through the marsh.

In sixth grade I was a girl who made new friends and hated the itchy, oily feeling of middle school and a boy who hated feeling my breasts growing.

I was a girl when I started to wonder what it would be like to kiss that girl in my English class. 

I was a girl who longed for the attention of that boy, but a boy who hated dresses and clothes that revealed my form.

I was a girl who longed to feel feminine and a boy who wanted to be handsome instead of gawky.

I was a boy when I was in love with the best runner on the track team.

I was a girl when I laid in that girl’s bed and was too shy to tell her how I felt.

He was a girl laying in front of me and I was a girl cradling him. I was a boy underneath him and underneath it all.

All my boyfriends have been women to me. If I were with a woman, would she be a man in my eyes?

I guess I reflect and embody who I see. Maybe I am everything.