Blue, Pink, White, Pink, Blue

Blue, pink, white

Pink, blue

These colours in order were made to represent me

But I need more than three

How can these three be my identity

When my identity feels like every colour in the world has been mashed together into some indescribable shade.

Blue, pink, white

Pink, blue

These are the colours assigned to my questioning

Assigned to the in-between

How can this be when there are days I that I am as pink as the lips of the woman I love

And there are days where I am only blue

A silhouette of baggy clothes and binders

Layers upon layers of fabric to suppress the sex I was born into

The sex I outgrew.

Blue, pink, white

Pink, blue

Do I even belong to you?

Can I?

May I?

Blue, pink, white

Pink, blue

I fall back into you when my words cannot describe my gender

When descriptors lack the capability of explaining the dysphoria, the euphoria,

When I am opposed to my own existence

When my shaky hands and stuttering words refuse to allow me to explain the confusion, and the complexity of who I am

I have you

Blue, pink, white

Pink, blue.