I am canvas cut in the shape of a woman. What rainbow of truths I see people paint upon theirs. Those colours, shapes, and techniques upon mine
Will always be upon canvas
Cut in the shape of a woman.
I knew as a kid I was different and I had this perception it wasn’t in a good way. When I was 12, I found out the name of what made me different. My parents told me I had 17 beta hydroxysteroid dehydrogenase deficiency. What the fuck is that?
Although I have never identified with any of the letters in the LGBT acronym, I feel deep empathy and love for this community. I understand the problems and discrimination they face, since every day I face those same problems and discrimination.
I grew up amongst those who spoke in the voices of angels, yet my body was a fantasy. A conjuring of nature, an abrupt reminder of the dissonance of thought which dominates the chosen.
I twirl my hair like I’m making candy. I pull it out like I’m made of metaphors. I’m biting your tongue. You’re biding my time. Years of miscommunication, disparate conversation. I down another disappointment and build another boundary for greedy hands to push and for me to cower behind.