My gender feels like a river.
Fluid and unpredictable, it carries me
Through whirling rapids that seeth of indecision
And contemplative canyons, echoing with my own thoughts.
Sometimes the water rises, surging towards something new
But I do not drown.
Terrified and joyous, wary and curious, I rise with it.
steady on my raft of identity.
Other times, my gender is a tree.
Comfortingly unmoving, yet always changing in small ways.
Reaching new branches into the sky, and flowering a different color each year.
A truth rooted so deeply within me,
that not even the strongest winds can tear it down.
And when I climb this tree and reach the top, I am always surprised.
Because as intricate and diverse as my identity feels,
The sheer amount of things that I am
Is always outdone by the landscape shown below me
Of who I could be.
An endless view of possibilities,
lit by the blazing sun of hope
And the quiet moon of determination.
Fluid and unpredictable, it carries me
Through whirling rapids that seeth of indecision
And contemplative canyons, echoing with my own thoughts.
Sometimes the water rises, surging towards something new
But I do not drown.
Terrified and joyous, wary and curious, I rise with it.
steady on my raft of identity.
Other times, my gender is a tree.
Comfortingly unmoving, yet always changing in small ways.
Reaching new branches into the sky, and flowering a different color each year.
A truth rooted so deeply within me,
that not even the strongest winds can tear it down.
And when I climb this tree and reach the top, I am always surprised.
Because as intricate and diverse as my identity feels,
The sheer amount of things that I am
Is always outdone by the landscape shown below me
Of who I could be.
An endless view of possibilities,
lit by the blazing sun of hope
And the quiet moon of determination.
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