Money and Inches

I alternate between

Feeling naturally emasculated

And also knowing

That if I was somehow

Not masculine enough

I wouldn’t have experienced

Any of that shit.

I am so masculine

People have to pick on me.

No matter which direction I go

I stand out as in-between

I don’t care much for reality

Your words are like broken glass

I sweep them up and throw them in the trash

As I gingerly step, careful not to miss

I am not able to be emasculated

I am the most undeniable, most pure essence

Of myself, and that person

Has always been seen as him

No matter what her pronouns were

It was a blessing and a curse

Now that I strive towards my happiness

I feel that it may never happen

It’s like reaching for the moon

While creating 10,000 new trash coins a day

Like clockwork

As if printing all the moneyz

Somehow makes it all valuable

I often feel that being

Small-dicked and poor makes me

Less of a man

And then I remember

That I am all of the other things

A man can be

And that those things are more numerous

Than all the money and inches in the world

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