Boys don’t like
girls stronger than them.
Don’t let the muscles show
through the skin.
Keep those where you need them, inside,
because one day
there will be a baby in there.
Girls with no hair
lion manes and horse tails, the animalistic softness
that calls a man to her fur
and makes him wrap his hands in it
bury his face in it
let it (uh) sink in.
Keep him where you need him, one day you may need
that strong set of hands
to keep off the chill. His hands, too big, reeling rod and fishing
shooting them in a barrel.
It’s too easy.
Sardonic grin, I have perfected
whatever arrangement my face will set in,
the meaning to be shrouded in mist.
I left a list
of things I wanted to do
taped to the fridge. I left behind
all the hope I never had. You will find it
and want to push it back into my body.
Throw me into the sea. Throw me into the sea and be done with it. Throw me into the fucking
sea and let my tired
Raya Finkle is a 21 year nonbinary writer and health student, currently residing in Corvallis, Oregon. They use writing as a form of healing.