I am not a man.
A man wouldn't hear
“Stay on the pavement, girls!”
From his third grade lunch aide
After he stomped on the snow
With his friends, who were girls.

I am not a man.
A man wouldn't have to insist
He's not dating his best friend
To every kid in the grade who asks.
There is nothing between them,
Even though he's a boy and she's a girl.

I am not a man.
A man wouldn't have to force a chuckle
When his friend admits on the ferris wheel
She actually had been crushing on him back then.
Well, it's been two years
And it doesn't really matter anymore.

I am not a man.
A man wouldn't internalize the lunch table teasing.
He wouldn't have to step his tormentor aside
To remind him that he doesn't like
Being called the “gay best friend”
Because he isn't gay and they aren't friends.

I am not a man.
A man wouldn't feel a pit in his heart
When his leg brushes another man's.
A man wouldn't be too scared
To ask their crush to pizza or something,
And their crush definitely wouldn't be another man.

I am not a man.
A man wouldn't cry,
Even after catching word that he was
Marked a “liberal faggot” in the courtyard
And everyone laughed.
Men aren't faggots.

I am not a man,
But I am not a woman.
I am nothing but
A person
Who is supposed to wear the skin of a man
But forgets to get dressed.