xxxy

Standing in front of the mirror I stared at my body like 'they' did every time they saw me.
I mustered up courage and asked what stood before me, who are you?
.
.
A cartoon? A clown? An object of ridicule? A mistake?
Ah. I didn't get an apt answer.

I turned dust before my eyes.
The courage I gathered, left me too.

I traveled back to those days of shame,
Those days when they killed me with the Pronoun Game.

They made me feel worthless and injected my nerves with humiliation.
They always demanded a clear cut answer, which I hadn't in my store.
Ah, I lost every time.
The hunt to find out my true self continued.
In the puddle I saw my reflection. Aah, twas too disgusting- my own image got separated into three- A man figure on the right, a woman figure to the left and a disoriented figure right in the middle.

Ufff.
Ruminating on all these I crushed the mirror into pieces.
My mother ran towards me.
I asked her, “Who am I?!”

She hugged me and whispered, "My child you're."
I asked her one more time, "Maa.. Am I your daughter or your son?!"
She repeated, "My child you're."