the difference between things i've been told & what i know

you should grow out your nails,
your hands look like mine!
i look down like any femme dyke might
and the next time i see a butch
lift up her hands and inspect her cuticles
i might stop
who am i to assume your identity
but still, they see themselves
as their fingernails, perceived differently

like others, i too am skeptical about this city
but one thing for sure, i know from experience
why is it easier to drive around brooklyn?
and what if - he might marry! ?
what does he think of me now?
my mind is spinning around the facts
i cannot grasp, nor the reality of it
being that, he probably don't give a shit

but i do. i want to know
explain to me on these terms,
new, and not too foreign, yet
i am not speaking the same language
anymore, less straight, queered version
myself, i am just wondering how to see
that this life converges with her
history, tell me, the disconnect
isn't yours alone but that emptiness
that space, no filler, for us to live
honestly, we created this to exist,
separate, the what's, identify that's you,
that's me