Implode 

 In that glass jar is the real me. 

Please, look closely. 

Do you see a woman caressing the light? 

Is that all that you see? 

Who knows. 

I could be a man in a purple dress 

reaching for my soul that calls out to be a woman. 

Who knows. 

I could be a woman in a purple dress 

reaching for my soul that calls out to be a man. 

 But I am trapped.

 I am suffocating. 

The air in this jar is slowly turning into poison. 

Air tight and sealed. 

No smell of death will seep out beyond its walls. 

 My cries are muffled. 

So tired of fighting with myself. 

So tired of screaming to myself. 

So tired. 

Just so tired. 

 Inside I'm burning. 

The light is starting fires. 

The air inside is smouldering.

 It's become a ticking time bomb. 

When will it explode? 

Causing me to implode? 

 What do I listen to? 

Who do I listen to? 

Is anyone really there? 

I never asked to be born like this. 

I wasn't taught to be like this. 

I was born a woman with the soul of a man. 

I was born a man with the soul of a woman. 

I was born a person with a soul. 

Born both man and woman. 

 Author's Note: I recently watched a Japanese drama, "IS", about intersex people. Looking at this picture reminded me of that drama. I hope that this poem reaches many and brings attention to the intersex community.