try to remember

I want to share something with you. I need to tell but the sky to hear myself in conclusion. I need not wait for anyone and need not prepare for I was born, preparations come from all the days I've live prior to today. But I am unprepared. "Freak," they scream on what I thought was an empty corner before hearing this, the pavement stays sturdy below me. Shaking. My body is trembling, my thoughts are racing for answers until I'm settled. I think of what's next for me but I can hardly see the dim street before me - I can't foresee the evenings ending nor the invitation to the entrance way of my building. I reach my keys to open the padlock welcoming me to safety, home. I don't know what's more absurd. I am processing now for at least one conscious hour and it's brought nothing to the forefront while everything rushes past me crashing now at once.
THAT'S CRAZY! You think I'm a freak? I look like a freak?? Do you see me? Oh, wait. That- she, I, this is crazy I start thinking, analyzing this - but I'm wearing a collard shirt, but it's purple and it's- it's a girls clothing dept shirt and doesn't it matter that - you don't care. You're unprivied and priviledged as I and you, you will taunt me, rattle and bang at my glass house, spit as you wait for your first sighting at my doorstep, on my corner, on the sidewalk, in the mall, at the club, in the middle of the night, coming out of the ally way, navigating through the city, in a gay town, I am not safe, I think to myself - I am safe, I am strong, I am ready. Admittedly I am a liar as I compare myself to not one person, place or time in particular. I am not sure if I should present this way suddenly aware that I am uncertain of my presence - in this outfit it's hard to be sure whether it is me. What motivated this look? And perhaps it wasn't motive based at all, perhaps I was driven by inspiration and that's why this was chosen. This starts to destroy me from the insides out and I am picking my brain for answers, no closure however. It doesn't matter what you're thinking, I'm thinking in visibility's terms you either see me or you don't see me. I choose to engage with the world or I don't. I don't have straight hair from ironing out the kinks, I don't have hours to prepare for the big party and I don't have one-gender-conforming-identity, I don't have any reason to conform - I am only concerned at the moment for safety's sake and otherwise, I can't honestly say I give two damns. But I give it more than a thought - whether I want to reflect this, I don't actually know. Whether I care about choosing one-gender-conforming-identity? No. But you see, I do - I care because I am choosing to exist and need to live. Inside this body my words are trapped - I am confined to language. Restrictions are placed inside of me and they come from without me, yet I must choose you identity to speak for me - I must be grown to stop and think of all of this. I was taught nothing and everything at once, I was learning how to love before I gendered you and words fell upon me, my lips and kissed almost everything. But there's hope for me, there is hope in this community and you remind me by staying by me, honest with me, and I - find myself surrendering to the argument. After all why protest - you queers surround me and surround me and I can hardly get around without asking what it means. Can you see me??
I overheard "FOR THE BOY,
It takes but a moment, a matter of milliseconds, a shift from right to left - the result of body intelligence, the transference of weight we learn to walk at a young age without thinking about it further in life. And YEEEEEEAHHHH!" spilling out of the drunkards mouths and carrying through the streets gripped like chills to the flesh ofthat separates my insides from your
I'm walking down the street and I'm trying to remember if I've ever felt safe.