Hey cis mister...
Please don't catcall me
Yesterday I'd be annoyed
Point out the misogynoir dipped in straight fuckery
Hit you with that middle finger, side-eye with a dash of "tell me to smile again and see what happens"
You'll shatter me
Rip away my wings
Suck me back into your tornado of binaries
Leave me naked, lost, bruised and tender
And I can't call into work misgendered
Hey my friend...
Please use my correct pronouns
I mean all the time, not just when I'm around
I know you think it's just a preference
But preference is the preface that heteronormativity slaps across anything that challenges its choke-hold on society
And while I want to say I sympathize
Because you "come from a different time"
You managed to make the switch from landline to smartphone and dial-up to wifi, AIM chats with A/S/L to a swipe left or right,
from Xanga to Live Journal to MySpace to Facebook to Twitter and the Instagrams and Snapchats
I'm pretty sure you can handle switching from she/her to they/them
Just talk about me like there are two of me
Actually, you know what I'm fucking dope
Turn that two into three!
Hey feminist group...
Thanks for the arduous convo about the name
And for adding that plus sign to make us all feel the same
But the work
Cuz every other post is Ladies this and Women that and vaginavulvauteruspussyhats
Callouts have been met with the unveiling of your fragility
Trantrums about being "forced" to shift from "ladies" to "folx"
From "pink pussies unite" to "badass activists"
Constructive discourse derailed by your tone policing
But I thought we were all about inter-sec-tiona-li-ty???
Hey casting director...
Thanks for lending your open mind
For reaching into the trans community
And creating this lane of visibilty
To cast trans actors to play trans characters
For giving pushing the envelope the ol' college try
Just please remember that no two of us are the same
There's no trans trope or type to fit
Each one of us will look, feel, sound, exist differently than the next
And if you forget this in yout groundbreaking process
You'll send me spiralling down a dysphoric hole where I'll watch Saturday Church on a Sunday to pull myself back together
only to find my psyche rapidly shattering into a million fractured pieces
And I'm still creating the picture
I don't know
Where they fall
How to put
The pieces back
For the first