Category is
Pure femme Realness
I strut my stuff
Made up of
Highlight to blind my beloveds
So they blush at my passing
I want to be the kind that my non-beloveds
See at bars and think
Is that drag?
Who are you, really?
Darling, I’m more than whatever you think of me.
This makeup does itch a
bit This hair is bothersome
It must fade away.
Who I am is of no consequence,
I am just another patron in this place
Trying to find some friends
Just don’t call me.
