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A poem I wrote as an egg, and in love with a straight guy.


A question fills my head.
Were I a girl instead
-- Same book, but different cover --
Would you become my lover?
Or would we still be friends?

Now, I ask: don't get me wrong.
I love our friendship, and it's strong.
I love it when I make you smile,
Even for a little while.
I love it when I'm at your side.
Our conversations make my day.
And nothing makes me feel more pride
Than impressing you some way.

Now, I wonder: can you tell?
How you make me feel so well?
That this smile is just for you?
And if you knew, then what you'd do?

Now, I know that you are straight.
And we're both guys, so we won't date.
So a question fills my head.
Were I a girl instead...

Note: I wrote this poem before realizing I'm a trans woman, which is why I'm calling myself a guy in there, but I'm absolutely not one. I have since learned that gender isn't just a matter of a "different cover" -- it's definitely part of the book.

-- Lady Scarecrow


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