The Haircut

Mon, 07/30/2018 - 15:39 -- Darbi

A haircut

It all started with a haircut

seems kinda stupid

But there it is


Pleasant smiles

Suddenly became confused glares

“So you trans or what?”


I’m just me

I guess I’m female

I don’t really care what you think though


Half of you think I’m a guy

Half, say a girl

Some are just confused

That’s cool

It’s not like it’s that big of a deal


Those that say “guy” have some preconceived notions about me

I won’t meet them

Those that say “girl” hold certain expectations of me

I’ll shatter them to a thousand pieces

Those that are confused actually have the clearest vision of me

Without the bias of male and female in their heads


Do I enjoy doing woodwork?

“Maybe” they’ll reply

Can you see me taking charge?

“I guess”

Can you picture me in a dress? How about a suit?

“Huh either, I guess”

Either indeed

I’m totally rocking my prom dress this year

But a Tux was a major consideration


It’s very difficult for me to comprehend

To comprehend why people distort themselves

Cripple themselves to fit into some tiny box

Boxes are meant to opened you know

They’re a starting point

Not the finish line

Expectations and traditions give us a start

A base to fall back to

But what if they just don’t feel right?


What if the pink, frilly tutus and dolls don’t interest you?

What if they are simply unappealing?

Who cares about cute skirts?

They only hinder my ability to climb up on top of the playground

Hinder the speed at which I can run

How high I can jump


Who cares about beautiful dolls?

They don’t do much, just sit there looking pretty

Ugh boring, such a waste of time

I want cars, and stuffed animals, and instruments

So much potential, so many possibilities

So unlike that creepy “Look-Alike” sitting high up in my closet’s shelf

Hidden away from the world, upon my insistence


“I need some strong boys to move these tables!”

I roll my eyes

Dramatically I approach the table

I heave it over my head

Just to make a point

It’s not even that heavy

I’m the girl who “steps up”


“We’re supposed to listen to the teacher y’know!” they say

It’s not like they’re perfect, godly beings

Yeah they deserve respect, and our attentiveness

I’m glad to give to them


But I don’t follow blindly

I question

I learn

I teach

People assume things

I prove them wrong

They will never succeed

Never succeed in stuffing me into a box

In making me pretty for the world to see


Screw that

I’m here

I’m queer

And I’m human too

Deal with it


This poem is about: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741