I have been called many names. 

 

Cas

Crazy

Cutie
 

Boo Boo

Babydoll

Bekkah

 

I respond to all of them, and yet none seem to fit. 

I thought it had to do with gender, but I think it is more than that. 

She is comfortable, what I was born with

but They fits too.

 

The face in the mirror is not me.

Logically, I know it is

that is how the world sees me

so I dress it and paint it how I see fit

but it is not me.

Some days I find her beautiful, hard to look away from. 

Others not. 

I see her fatigue, her pain.

 

I exist behind some frames

hands and feet moving at my command. 

But I have no form. 

 

I have no identity. 

 

I float through life, whims dictate my goals. 

Values dictate my goals. 

But…

 

I don't know who I am.

I don’t know if I ever will.