To fit well
into this scheme,
my slice of hell --
my wasted dream.
Never fit
the social stencil --
messy colors,
lines in pencil.
Could not see
that I was strange,
nor feel free
within their cage.
On the fringes,
binary fear
oft impinges
upon the queer.
No context,
bridge, or adapter:
gender/sex,
and person after.
Categories
supersede
humanity
in word and deed.
Life between
the lines, beyond
median, mean,
and mode is odd.
On the fringes,
binary fear
oft impinges
upon the queer.
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 3:08 PM UTC
To fit well
into this scheme,
my slice of hell --
my wasted dream.
Never fit
the social stencil --
messy colors,
lines in pencil.
Could not see
that I was strange,
nor feel free
within their cage.
On the fringes,
binary fear
oft impinges
upon the queer.
No context,
bridge, or adapter:
gender/sex,
and person after.
Categories
supersede
humanity
in word and deed.
Life between
the lines, beyond
median, mean,
and mode is odd.
On the fringes,
binary fear
oft impinges
upon the queer.
It gets better.
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