Category: citizen trans* {project}
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My amygdala is fried–I feel no fear Maybe I should Stress over whereI will piss safelyOr the number of pillsIn my little orange bottles,Which are few but fillMy cabinet so clutteredStill empty…I can’t find itI can’t summon the cortisolBut it’s swimming thereSomewhere deep Maybe I’m drowning. I’ve beenHabituated to the lickOf salty water welling in…
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I am a giant sequoiamy cells carry a millennia of memories and knowledgemy limbs stretch to the skymy crown among the clouds that I sip on for watermy heartwood twisted and healed a thousand times overmy body scarred from the flames I’ve endured they can try to cut me with their words but my bark…
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I’m scared for my existencewake up every day fearingthe call for extinction in an effort to keep myself informedI find the world around me deformedmy perception erased by cruel reality the court has adjournedand found me guiltyof the crime of graspingat happiness like straws but what does the news say? that our president “favorsblunt force”,…
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let new color shoot of wild garlic in eye hole worms shitnew soil on periosteum wherever i rainpink-walled skywill also be
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Our very own lebensraum: the Gulf of America, Greenland, and Canada, too.I fear I’m overstepping here, but President Jackson’s portrait is backIn the Oval Office. My heart goes out to all the very fine people in the crowd,He said with a wink. It’s the Inauguration, after all. Out with the old: Critical Race Theory, In with…
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I am afraid, godI am falling in love at the tsunami tideI am fallingIn loveDare i say it On Babys breathI amFalling inLoveAs the men pick up their spearsGreat big spearsAnd lie down armsSoft handsFor those with hard knucklesAnd bloodied tooth smiling grinsWorst comes to worst isWorse than i can dare thinkBecause i amListen, godI…
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My bleeding ribs not from a bra seen as a sin by many, ran away into the sea of Gender I love, risen Forward, bans all other in my ear dominating as Ares a new era
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I have no gender. I am only a shape, a sound, my breath, and then I’m gone. If you remember me, that’s your problem.
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& I get it, it’s not the market’s place/ desire/priority, to accommodate me, what the market will bear doesn’t care for me to assert what might curdle the vibe/chip the veneer/offer shoppers less-than-a-smile while we’re worshipping the god of transactions —it’s a functional [kind of] exhaustion, daily not to correct them—at work, ignoring your THEY/THEM shirt,…
