I had to give them a name
Knowing that they didn’t grow up with me
At first they were these strange things
But now they are just an intricate part of me
And I am loving them
Every part of them
Even without Natural Boobs
Still loving them Foobs
It’s a strange feeling to be honest
They don’t feel like they use to feel
I know they are not real
But there is nothing fake on me
Everything that I am, is all me
Treat them the same as the old ones
Care for them with the same scrutiny
Once they are healed I will be free
These Foobs
Know they are not boobs
Moving around on purpose
Trying to be so disruptive
Knowing there are no bras
Made for things like this
So happy to have them
Last ones didn’t really like me
Wondering at times
Would people treat me differently
If I still had mine
Only those close to me
Truly know I am different completely
Pictures no longer look like me
These Foobs are the only outward indication
That I survived this biological manipulation
