I want to be scattered across all colors.
I want to be infinite-
To be both Apollo and Artemis,
Or some days neither.
There are days when labels seem but a hassle.
When something as simple as a pronoun can shatter your self worth.
They often wonder: What statement are you conveying?
My short hair is not a statement,
This body that I am proud of is most definitely not a statement.
They do not understand.
I am making no statement,
I am simply being.
They say: No one has taken you as you are.
I say: Being single does not mean I am unlovable.
They ask: But don’t you want children?
I answer: Having children does not justify my existence.
Who are you? Who I am is not for you to see-
It is my own.
What are you? I am a beautiful in between.
