PRIVATE PRESLEY

real

eccentric,

but not in a good way,

fading green dyed hair,

overgrown undercut.

trying to pass

without complication,

he just wants to be heard.

i'm a boy, i'm a boy, i'm a boy!

he tries to be proud,

wearing the flag

of his people,

but most days he can't find

the courage to get up

because he knows people

in this day and age

don't want to believe him.

they don't want him to be him,

they want him to sit quietly

and listen to the drum beats

as they were when he was born.

they want him to go back into hiding,

they want him to be her again.

hearing the word 'she'

even if it's directed at someone else

makes him ache for

a stomach full of pills or

a bullet through the brain.

he just wants to be real.

real, real.

his friends tell him he is,

but he feels like he's falling

through the cracks,

melting like ice cream,

fading like the light of a dying lightbulb.