Finding the voice that’s right isn’t easy
Poetry is a voice for me
Or maybe
Who i’m supposed to be
Is the enby who likes frogs and green
The dainty one
The angsty teen
I’m the one
Who gets misgendered
In family game night
But ignores it
Because they’re family
Nobody would think it
But maybe
I’m more then the innocent bee
I’ve got a sting.
Social justice is
More complicated than “just” pronouns
And even if it isn’t
Might “just be pronouns”
But it’s also my LIFE.
ACAB’s not calm enough
Not dainty enough for me,
Too much.
You say you don’t want me in a box
But i’m already in one
Maybe I should choose the box I live in
Instead of you
Getting to be the one saying i’m free.
At first I thought
I didn’t have it.
It wasn’t completely life-altering
At least at first.
Then I realized
That avoidance
Of using the bathroom
Unless necessary
During school
Because I felt like I was in the wrong place
In gendered bathrooms
That feeling of excitement
I got
When I dressed non-conformingly
That full-body shiver
When someone used the wrong pronouns
For me
The feeling of discomfort
From noticing my chest
When a mildly uncomfy bra
Made me notice that it looked
Particular large.
The almost inablility to breathe
When I know
Someone in public
Sees me as a woman
Within the binary i’m trying to break.
That was dysphoria.
How do I know my privilege?
It’s when I get to see
Representation of white people
Like me
When i’m relating to white women
Who look like me
In every feminist movie.
It’s when almost all of the dykes
In the shows I watch
Look somewhat like me
I can see myself in them,
In the majority.
It’s when I was lucky enough
To grow up
In a body where
I wasn’t told to keep my hands visible
If I got pulled over.
I was born a
I was born
With privilege.
At least,
That’s what they thought.
As I grew
I found that
My privilege got stripped away.
My privilege of representation.
My privilege of not being catcalled.
My privilege of not feeling like
I’m seeing
Everywhere I look.
My privilege
Of not being told I didn’t exist
Of being able to brush it off
When someone called me the wrong thing.
There’s privilege in ignorance.
In being able to ignore dysphoria
In not having dysphoria
In ignoring
And not fighting
The more than 144 anti-queer
Anti-me bills
In the 50 states
Of this country
That we call “free”.
You know what I call?
And i’m gonna
Keep looking
For my voice.