A Boy.

A boy
My envy
My wish
My insecurity when I sit alone and think about how it could have been if I was a boy
I wasn’t tired at first
But as time passed
I got tired of being the in the shadow of my mother’s sons
Tired of being the last option
Tired of being the blacksheep
Tired of how different my cards were dealt with
I got tired until I wasn’t tired
Or maybe the branch of my very own brothers
Unless they’re happy I can’t be happy and them being sad means me being sad
So I find comfort in the fake scenarios I create of if I was a boy
How would it be like if I was one of my mother’s sons💔💔
I’d sob longer than I’d sleep at night before I conquered the denial of being a girl
The insecurity I could never talk about
The explosion that has been initiating in on my chest half my life
I used to think am sad but I wasn’t sad
I was bitter
The rage burning within caused a rift between me and myself
At a point I hated me for not being my mother’s son
Until it switched and it wasn’t me I hated anymore
It was my mother’s sons💔💔
My brothers
A part of me
A boy
My envy
The envy that unleashed my nigga ways💔💔
Ways I can’t embrace
Ways I can’t own🙇🏽‍♀