He hears the rain, the raging storm within him.
The sting, the hurtful condescension.
There are those who will never comprehend
the fact that not everyone is alike.
He mourns his forlorn body, his heart so tattered and torn.
He aches to be rid of this skin
that suffocates him
like an ill fitting suit of flesh.
He needs to be free of this cruel unjust name.
In his dream, his body decays while
his skin disintegrates and crumbles from his form.
Beneath this all, he is feminine and free.
Stepping out of his skin to let the world see
that labels are meant only for packages, and the like.
He closes his eyes, floating and free,
glorious in all his finery.
He wakes to the fact
that he still inhabits his masculine body.
With horror he realizes the fact
that it was all an earth shattering dream,
and that he will forever more linger in hell.
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