Tread lightly, my dear

I am sorry that I exist.

I am sorry I am not who you want me to.

That I’m not a boy.
I know that you’ve never said it outloud. But action speak louder than words, right?
I saw it in your pride.

I saw it in your humility.

I saw it in your anger.

I saw it in your happiness

I saw it in your grief.

If I were a boy we both could have been saved from the pain.

I keep trying to make your proud. But it’s never enough, isn’t it? Complications after complications. .. just because I’m a girl .

Please don’t make me feel ashamed of who I am.

I try so hard not to let it faze me as I try to hold the world in my hands.  Rule over it like a true queen or annihilate it like its sworn enemy.

But your words they stick to me, like knives they stab me. I can go on a rampage.

It’s war and I’m not handed a weapon because you think I am too fragile.

I hold knives better than you. I will strike you down with a smile.

The hand that feeds you can be the hand that chokes you.

Tread lightly,  my dear.