Now don't get me wrong

I heavily pride myself on being a beautiful girl

I adore my hips and my breasts and my delicate features

But I just can't help but be envious of the male body

Sometimes I want to be able to wear a tank top and show my muscular arms and flat chest

Sometimes I want to have stubble dapple my chin and cheeks like a sponge painting

Sometimes I want angular hip bones and I want to take my shirt off in public

What would I look like as a man

I want to be the mysterious boy with dark eyebrows and a pale gaze that traps the thoughts of the people around me

I wonder how deeply my voice would rumble

How prominent would my Adam's apple be

Would girls be afraid to speak to me

Would I be afraid to speak to girls

Then I remember the sanctity of the female bond

This wordless connection we all seem to have that shows itself in everyday situations

I remember that no matter how envious I am, I would never give up my body or my mind

For something so juvenile

As a flat chest