Even God can make an error

As I knew when I was three.

When I looked into a mirror

And saw a face that wasn’t me.

I played with girls instead of boys.

And wished myself a Disney princess.

Never played with boyish toys.

Secretly I wore a dress.

I found on my computer screen,

How to become what I’d always been.

Answers pulled from internet streams,

I searched and watched them, again, and again.

The girls on-screen had the faces I craved,

Breasts and bottoms, luminous skin.

Had hot daddies to make them slaves.

To hold them down, and push it in.

Online drugstores for hormones,

Nipples budded, butt expanded

Estrace, Spiro, progesterone,

Breasts enlarged, someday, implanted.

Bikini lines from a tanning bed

Make up, jewelry, bleached blonde hair.

My body’s now controlling my head.

I craved sex, but did I dare?

Sex found me, a group of thugs

Fucked me, still I wanted more;

So I stepped up my girly drugs,

And bid my body as a whore.

Men paid my price and took their toll.

They came and left, then came another.

But friends and family never called.

I lost them all, except my mother.

And now, I’m the girl on the screen.

Inspiring others to take my path.

And though it seems I live the dream.

Is it a dream whose end is death?

All living things must someday die.

Better to risk than to fail to choose.

To survive by living the greatest lie,

Means facing the end with nothing to lose.

© Alexandra Rios, 2019