He or She

My body evokes textures worthy of afterbirth. My thoughts punish the violent, masculine thoughts of the other half. I often stare inside myself to see if I see a better me. I could never bury another, so I instead bury my emotions, but still weep silently whilst the night cries. Why befriend another when insecurities walk with me more than my own shadow. I adore everything in the reflection of a calm stream, yet I'm repulsed by every gesture that I witness in the mirror. Pain pleases, fear speaks, and tears hurt. Sharing my idol thoughts doesn't interest me, but I could speak endlessly though my knowledge is carnal until my knees hurt. Can hearts get heat stroke, can a mind go numb? I just don't see what they see, I'm still trying to understand what it truly means to be we. No matter how loud I speak you'll never remember me.