If you have to deceive and weave at KLCC a lie,
CCB it seems quite clearly queer?
For I a wombless woman shed no monthly blood,
A graceless mother mary, devoid of long enough hair,
"click clack" sounds draw eyes of jagas and makciks to stare,
Looks like the loudest color is blue

For murmurs and whispers make it seem queer,
That id let vampiric brastraps brand me as they drink my blood,
A silent gap beneath my beneaths;here be nothing but hair,
a masquerade designed to stop or lessen the gradient of stares,
This is to stop me from turning blue,
choked/drowned/beaten : price of the lie

the penalty of a razor blade slices skin shedding tears of blood,
Streaking down legs and pits,for the sake of the lie,
Maybe i **** at shaving AHAHAH or maybe im not queer (after all),
For i am a mask;in heels blue,
a formless being; marked by long hair
yet formed enough to elicit stares

As mascara and eyeliner streak across face,yonder disheveled hair,
Calls "kopi O s
panas anneh" in baritone voice amidst stares,
The heels click,ocean blue,
Color of the body in these fears derived from commonality:drained of blood,
Tis no pontianak nor hantu raya,but tis is I, an antromorphised lie,
The mask that bends and folds to the will of anachronistic archaic norms that i shouldn't be queer

I live in fear, bounded by a 1000 eyed wall that stares,
A whispering congregation, "Ah gua? Bapok, Gay, ******" as these words stream around me, a river blue,
This blows as I don't like to fib, ( im Catholic u see) so i won't lie,
I AM NOT A BOY BUT IM A GIRL WHO'S QUEER
the length of hair gender markers none as it's just ******* hair

A woman I am; hear me roar; in my heels blue,
Locks; flowing lusciously; binding one norm: gender =/= length of hair,
Empowerment is built upon this premise: 'what me worry,what me care, go to hell with your stares",
I'm no Marsha I'm no Slyvia i wont lie,
But one things for certain : " im here and im queer"
Bruises and burns bear no marks for there is no spilt blood