waiting for the bus.
watching my leg hair grow
thinking about studs and the adjustment to my new-found femininity
wishing i wasn't going to where i had to
a cop.
stops.
reverses and starts talking to me.
WHAT NO I AM NOT YOUR FRIEND MAYA
there's a man who reads death notices.
and a girl too young with babies.
the wheels on the bus go round and round.
walking through the better parts of town
to work
pisses me off, but it's such a nice day out
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