A seemingly fine day ruined with one headline. Then another. And another. And by the time my phone stops buzzing the news couldn't be any clearer.
We lost a battle today. A battle for basic humanity, a battle to our own autonomy.
"Women" lost. "Women" should be afraid. "Women". "Women". "Women".
Every headline I read talks about how scary the world is for women.
Yes, the world is scary for women...or anyone with a ******.
I don't want to make this about me. Because it's not. It's about every transgender man that fights for healthcare on a daily basis. It's about every non-binary person assigned female at birth who can get pregnant.
and yes....it's about women.
It's about people (men and women) who think their ideals should determine what I do with my body.
It's about every pastor, minister, judge, and human being who feels they have a say in how my life is lived.
Poetry has always been and will always be political.
Poetry is art and art is expression of feeling.
Today....I'm ******. I'm overwhelmed with a feeling of dread.
The same feeling of dread I felt during the 2016 election. The same feeling of dread I felt the night of the Pulse Orlando shootings. The same feeling of dread I feel every time I think of wearing my trans pride shirt out in public.
I'm not afraid to say how absolutely terrified I am....I'm just afraid for whatever is coming next.
I'm crying for a girl who never existed. One who failed but always persisted, to try and figure out what makes one woman. these thoughts about gender felt like a shout, but this 'girl' was still figuring it out. Now this person mourns the loss, of this gender that felt like an albatross.
These words I write are the tomb for the name I was once called These words I write are the grave in which I bury her These words I write are where ma'am, and her will lay to rest These words I write are where I **** her once and for all THIS IS WHERE MAGGIE LAYS TO NEVER BE WOKEN
This is where I **** that part of me that hunts me daily
body in a rage blood bubbles rummaging horns begin to make an entertrance howls of shrieking agony veins shattering with pupils dilated and saliva trailing down my crimson stained lips your best bet is to run. get the **** away from me.
my body is a topic that trails the mouths of a family at dinner it is the trail of saliva that leaves shortly after breaking a heated kiss always leaving a bitter taste
but when did you taste me? when did I crawl into your mouth full of cavities?
existing as I am cements chains in people's root canals a topic for discussion my life to debate trans people being the forefront it is so inconvenient and sinful and yet its the flavor on their seething lips
kissing one another trailing more saliva knowingly trading hate with ones mind and lips integrating more citizens and normalizing their behavior