it’s bad again.
in all my life only once have i
risked showing the face under the mask,
only once has my family seen me
in that god awful gown,
so they rightfully assume
like my scars, i’ve healed,
but the internal bleeding never stopped
the wounds have festered
i’m infected
now beyond repair.
today for the first time since
and the first time i’ve ever
i audibly screamed for help,
begged to be seen and loved and not left,
by the only man that should ever be assumed
to be obligatory,
and i was looked through
like my skin were translucent
and words made of glass
that he had no intention of grasping so as
to not let shatter.
i’ve spoken in therapy,
i’ve mentioned to friends,
but still my words are like a passing breeze
something they nod in appreciation for
but wish to not turn into a storm.
i am forever too much
yet always too little,
i am the one they will mention in passing
at the reunion
but not even bother to print out the obituary,
i am the one that has all the advice
but just wishes you would notice
this eternally available shoulder to cry on
is seeping wet from others,
it’s shaking under your head’s weight,
i am frozen in a smile of
“no don’t worry it’s fine”.
but it’s not fine
it’s bad again,
though you probably never knew it was at all—
because the mask is glued on
and the letters are always written
but never sent,
the bottle opens but always closed
the bath ran but always drained.
probably my last day
will be an impulse
a sudden uncharacteristic stroke of courage
that they will have never expected,
even while they look down
on my bloating, rotting self,
they will see the mask
even when all i left behind is raw skin
and say how i helped people,
how i was a good friend and employee,
but never good enough to romance
never worthy enough to remember
never needed in life enough
to ask why it’s bad again.
4 notes
·
View notes
nothing has been more important to my being queer than when i went to my first pride parade, got seperated from my group, had a panic attack about it and was sitting on the side of the road holding a tiny genderfluid flag and freaking out. then this six foot five drag queen in four inch heels appeared from literally nowhere and sat down next to me. i, this scared-shitless trans bi kid at pride for the first time, very nervously told her she looked pretty and i told her my name and that i got lost and didn't feel like i should be at pride and she held my hand and said "oh, honey, everybody deserves to be here, especially you. pride is for everybody who's ever gotten lost, who's been scared of who they are or where they are. you think we never been scared before? pride's for you, honey, because you're scared. you don't have to be proud right now, but you're gonna be one day, honey, i'm sure of it."
i found my group soon after that and i never saw that queen again but to this day i am convinced i met an angel.
so yeah. pride is for you. pride is for all of us.
127K notes
·
View notes
the men and boys are innocent too.
we cry "the innocent women and children" to appeal to the masses, to try and force their sympathy, but the men and boys are innocent too.
I have seen sons crying out for their mothers, their fathers, their siblings. I have seen them break down at the loss of their families. I have seen them cling to their dead and grieve.
I have seen fathers cradle their dead children, seen them kiss their faces and hold their little hands. I have seen them faint with grief when asked to identify the dead. I have seen them carry their sons and daughters. I have seen them fasting to provide what little they can for their families.
I have seen men and boys digging through the rubble with just their bare hands, I have seen them comforting strangers, playing with children, rocking them, hushing them, even if the face of such imminent danger. I have seen them cry, seen them grieve, seen them break down into each other's arms, seen them be selfless, beyond selfless, becoming something I don't have a word for.
I have seen the men who are doctors refuse to leave their patients, even when they have no medicine or supplies to give them, even when they're threatened with bombings. I have seen fathers who have lost all their children pick orphans up into their arms and proclaim them their child so they are not alone. I have seen men and boys digging pets out of the rubble.
the men are innocent too. the men and boys are being hurt and killed too. the men and boys are grieving too. the men and boys are scared too. the men and boys are fighting to save their people too. the men and boys deserve to be fought for too.
69K notes
·
View notes