Monday, they woke up and looked in the mirror. The faded pajamas and the loose tee made them happy and they smiled.
Tuesday, they woke up and looked in the mirror. The faded pajamas and the loose tee made them sad and they frowned. They yearned for boxers and no tee.
Wednesday, the chest binder was locked away in the closet and that was good for them.
Thursday, the chest binder was all that was holding them together.
Friday, their family never called them for dinner back home. They cried themselves to sleep, a wet towel strewn across their hungry stomach and upset heart.
Saturday, their younger sister snuck some food out and into their apartment. It was a happy day.
Sunday, churches across town refused to let them in. Called them, “Abomination, monstrosity, sin.” They went back home and prayed to the shrine in the hole in their wall.
A week in the day of a non-binary individual is a ride, not a particularly fun one either. But, they wouldn’t stop living life the way they want to. Because that was who they were. They weren’t ‘undecided’ or ‘confused’ or ‘greedy’. They were genderqueer and they were here to stay.