Category: citizen trans* {project}
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The average life expectancyFor trans people is 35Due to violence and suicide My future vision is blurryI can see fuzzy outlinesShadows taking shape I see a face crumpled in sorrowHeavy with loss and longingUntil I’m stiff as a board in a boxThen light as a feather I don’t want to be just another statisticI deserve to live a…
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I weep thinking of the loss.The loss of human life.Trans day of remembrance is a hard day.One that makes someone ponder. These lives matter.These lives have meaning and deserve respect.Where do these souls go?When a light is snuffed out, The Gods weep.What hatred must be in their hearts.Their triple heaters are cold to the touch.Their heart protectors…
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each morning I wake up& wonder which part of my body has become aland mine. yesterday, my mouth.the taste of ash coatedmy tongue, eating holesthrough each taste bud my eyes, still closed as the news plays tragedyon the television, shake seizure-like inside of me today, my uterus.no longer shedding orbleeding or bloating butstill fertile enough to turn into a weapon. womb run red…
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For a month I avoided my fatherhe called I called he called he calledhe called I called he called he calledhe called I called I called he called as we shouted at each otherinto the cave from the walk homefrom the takeout line from workduring lunch break from joyridingin the car from 2:00 PM when workwas…
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it’s easier if i disclose what i am up front, easiest if you do the work for both of us to decide for yourself. transparency isn’t key, but wants to. i can shift this blood around to give a moreconvincing presentation. tada. muscle like it’s a dying trophy, bonfire of carbs, & it’s the year…
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We do not sleep. She keeps up with the polls;I smoke until I’m on the couch. She lets me pretend until 1am,when the votes seem sure,then we begin our planning. Where we’d go.What we’d take.Who’d we be leaving behind. She makes the coffee, I feedthe feral cats outside.I apologize to them,like they’d understandif we suddenly left,suddenly disrupted theirlittle lives. One…
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asks a buzzfeed quiz, but sometimes the more accurate questionis whether i could pass a turing test aftercramming and thus starting to feel less alive. can statistics have genders?asks the inner voice that has already resigned himselfto being a fundraising item for a nonprofit, a black-and-whitephoto adorning a copied and pasteddecidedly uninspirational email. can i watch…
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Maybe that caged bird Maya Angelou wrote of,Maybe there’s another cage, another birdA whole aviary of cages, chained upBy dirty words, spat from the bowels of hatredItself.There’s a good half of every person aliveLooking at those cages in adoration“Look what we’ve done to our beautiful nation, we…We’re just making it great again.”It’s like the hand…
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A love letter to American zillennials before we were old enough to strapon our most comfortable shoes and standin line at the polls, we were old enoughto cut george bush’s face out of our scholastic readers and colorall over it with school-issued crayolas,to tape it to the corner of our desksand sit down on it—kiss my…
