Zombie Apocalypse.

Tears stroke his face when you call them a girl.

Hurt echoes through his mind when you ignore their words.

Going outside stings him, when they're trying to cover his chest.

And it's too windy, and the man looks straight at his breast.

Their words are muted by the media.

Told to make up his mind, but it's not up to them to halt their dysphoria.

The attacks may zoom through the air,

and it's a rollercoaster when he goes to school the next day.

People, left and right.

Can't they see what he's yearning to hide?

They shriek in each locker room,

bathroom,

every hall.

Every glare that comes uninvited,

all so piercing.

Acting like it's a song,

and his mask will stay on.

While all of them: A face of ignorance while they have to mask his pain.

Fought and fought without an escape.

Told to provide an explanation, but there's no way to describe.

How it grasps him by a chokehold when she continue calling them that.

But can't she- and can't they all see the way he deepens their voice.

How he scrunches their face and shake at each of the words.

Clouds, flooming over them.

Pronouns, deep into his skin.

A conscious, they fear is drifting away.

"I wish I could choose. I wish it could stop."

But no red sign could ever understand,

how his gender alters so quickly.

Then so faint, so inconsistent.

"Choose. Choose. Choose."

It's not up to them to decide,

only to alter all the minds.

And hope the zombies stop their attacks, even though their feet still drags on the battlefield.

When the wilted grass arise, and reappears the stitched wound.

Death is in his voice,

it's in their sight- In his mind.

Why won't they stop, let him free.

They didn't want to be unknown.

He didn't want to fight to be seen as equal.

Would someone please let them breathe, 

to see what he truly means?

Battlefield, withered.

Ravens, circling.

Stars, fallen.

Neck, tethered.

Teeth, gnawing.

Voice, gargling.

It's all bound to be on repeat,

spinning until someone severs the tie.

Until someone sees that it's wrong-

Wrong to ignore his calls when their begging.

Wrong to giggle and smirk at his face.

Wrong to say they wouldn't get the pain, when what you've put him though is torture.

So when will you stop pretending it's not you're fault,

and help them back up.

Not kick him when their down, 

but help him recover from the zombies you've caused.