Little Red Riding Queer

Because I wore a dress I was tainted Your wolf like Gaze Cut right through Your Fangs Telling me I’m not good enough To be Authentic me That I should less Because less is more In a world Where to be me In line With your Thirst For blood I need More tits, More ass, More pain But Equality Seems dead To me When I don’t stand on either side of your equal sign Act Up Mama Love wins Gaga Human Rights Damn right You know I’m not able to Encompass This self taught Worth & Anxiety Because In me Breathes Indigenous Fluidity Porque While you choose To play On either A or B Jumping rope or kicking balls Kicking There I sat Quietly Observing Lerning Cracking Somewhere Over the straight laced Rainbow I hid You could play rope? Too femme You could play ball? Too masc Kicking balls Kicking Imagine In a dress Kicking balls Kicking They’re Kicking balls Kicking Little boys now men Kicking And I’m Screaming There’s blood I’m alone There’s only blood On my dress Because I wore a dress Because I wanted to go home Because I wanted to remember What home felt like If […]
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White Rooms

Displace my body from this room. Slight crevices at its corners suffocate White leaking edges. Like a small, life raft in the middle of the ocean, my body and its many iterations slowly modify themselves to shield generations of obsessed desires. I try to fill the holes that the puss keeps leaking out of an in, slowly more corpses rise and they do take on the shape necessary to seal the room in their contorted and misshapen state. Desperate to save this space from its impending fate of suffocation and implosion. In a gasp for air I whisper to one of them: Dear ancestor, what has become of you? My mind shifts in chaos to imagine yet another room: one with walls so distant and void from infinite desire. Distilled self pursuit enveloped with imagination and hope. In here there is only one mind, one soul, one body that is me and only me. For in here, void of misconceived loneliness, I am free to pursue the ultimate act of masturbation. I cradle myself in a fetal position and I imagine one truth. The sweet embrace of mother’s womb. I float in an expansive dark space that my imagination’s eye […]
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