#mtlqueer

tw: violence

The space where I live feels like a long empty corridor it is cold and poorly lit the air is thin there is the sound of water dripping I think about the leak and I know soon it will all change it won’t be like this everything will be soaking and heavy I think about my body my body my body is on the walls it’s the floral wallpaper and when the flood will come its shreds will be hanging like perfect roses and tulips and lilies just ripe to pick to fondle for others cuz my body will always be theirs to look at to interpret oh so your pronoun is they oh so I become They no not Her please don’t Her me it’s simple so simple just like when will I be more than gender will I shake this cold wet Her and when you bump violently into me on the street accidentally on purpose I think about all the trans women of color being murdered and harassed the girls being beaten the gay teens in high school and no I’m not them I’m lucky privileged white and non-binary and immigrant and I should stand up say something but in that moment there is no movement no hope no me there is only hate there is only vengeance being six feet tall twisting off your balls and spitting in your eye cuz if you do this to me you would do it to them and all of us you are of those that kill me you are not like me no simple songs no same humanity adam and eve there is no hope only a dark corridor I retreat to as I cry on my way home after you pass me by.

And I wait I do as I’m told cuz there’s too much to break through trauma fear self-loathing powerlessness too deeply ingrained but I know.

I know I can mould this body into something else something more than silence. I know my self calls for the thunder the wild. I am not a boy not a girl I am a force of nature.