When I was a little girl I was scared
to tell the world that the other little girl
down the road had a crush on me.
Because I was worried that cruel people
would mock her or through stones
as she passed by,
I was terrified that her daddy
would beat her and her mama
would look the other way.
But mostly I was horrified at
what might happen if people found out
that I liked her too.

From a very young age I have looked
at men and woman as if they were the same,
because to me they are, sexually, emotionally
we all beat to the same living drum
that mother nature has provided for us.
It doesn't matter what our mental state is
or how physically fit we are,
It doesn't matter what's on the outside
because on the inside we all have
beating hearts and throbbing souls.

But as a little girl I knew not to
tell that I felt these things,
because from an even younger age
I was taught that to love someone
of the same sex was of the
biggest abominations this world could muster,
and that it was punishable by the most
horrendous and inhumanly possible death.

Then as a young lady my first kiss
was with another girl.
We were at her house, her parents were gone
and our lips pressed together,
and in that moment nothing else mattered
because I could hear the millions of hearts
beating together in a passionate
synchronization of organized chaos,
I could hear the bees in the yard around us
and even though just one sting could kill me
I did not care.
I could smell the flowers
in the orchard across the street
where she did not like to wander at night
because she was scared of what hides in the dark.

The next day I could not look her in the eye.
Because I was ashamed of what we had done,
of what I felt,
and of how much I wanted to do it again.
Because I was taught that if you weren't
straight and cis
you were less than human-
and trust me I tried so hard to be normal,
to be what my family wanted
and not what my father hated

I even lied about my first kiss.
But I can't control it,
I am who I am, I am human.
I am two genders in one body,
I am a brother and a sister-
he was never born but he's here
and he's showing me every
pretty lady passing by,
and to be honest I'm grateful for that.

I am not a stereotype.
I will not sex anything that lives,
nor will many of us-
and even if we do that's our business.
We are not monsters, we are not crazy.
I just don't Identify as my genitals,
and no one should have to.
And as for my sexuality,
well baby I just love me
a good mind.

One day I am going to be dead,
and when I am rotting in that ground-
six feet under
there is only going to be one body.
This body that knew the love of
both men and woman.
This body that lived.
This body that breathed and decayed
and ate more strawberries than
it would like to admit.
This body that had and felt
all these human emotions.
This body that fought to be seen
as more than just a statistic,
and I don't know if I will have succeeded.

But for now I will continue to fight,
I will do my best to protect these people,
these beautiful, amazing,
rainbow flavored people
who have to fight everyday to avoid
becoming another suicide statistic,
another trans-phobic rape example,
another "I-stabbed-her-because-she-isn't
-into-men-and-won't-have-sex-with-me" story,
another body laying broken in the road.
I will fight for them,
and I will love them,
because we are not statistics.
We are human beings.