I want to be scattered across all colors.

I want to be infinite-

To be both Apollo and Artemis,

Or some days neither.

There are days when labels seem but a hassle.

When something as simple as a pronoun can shatter your self worth.

They often wonder: What statement are you conveying?

My short hair is not a statement,

This body that I am proud of is most definitely not a statement.

They do not understand.

I am making no statement,

I am simply being.

They say: No one has taken you as you are.

I say: Being single does not mean I am unlovable.

They ask: But don’t you want children?

I answer: Having children does not justify my existence.

Who are you? Who I am is not for you to see-

It is my own.

What are you? I am a beautiful in between.