Oh, my body's disconcerting
And my face, it feels so masked
Is this the answer to a question
That I never even asked?

When I look into the mirror
All I see is me, but odd
It's as if the time was moving
Something else into this spot

And I'm always quite unsettled
Little things that don't add up
Is that me who is detaching
Do they all just envelop?

Is this the answer to a question
That I never even posed?
And if so, Lord, should I ask it
Should this matter be disclosed?

Oh, the problems that would follow
All the issues that'd result
Is my comfort really worth it?
Being me is difficult

Pride Month 2020