Saturday 4 May 2019

A Gender War Survivor (January 10, 2014)

As I sit
Before you
In your office
You ask me:

"What does it mean
To be transgender?"

Tears flowing
And stuttering
From previous questions
I respond:

"It's living
Inside an alien body
Which no one realizes
But me.

"Forced to look at
And touch a birth defect
On a daily basis
That others view
As normal."

Except
I keep quiet
About parts of my life
Which the pain is
Still fresh
To my memory.

About the mental abuse
By my mom
Who used a misguided belief
I needed to be protected
24/7/365 from myself.

A by-product
Of my electrical burns
Around the corners
Of my mouth
When four years old.

But this pales
To the gathering storm
Which broke loose
Concerning my true gender.

Enduring months
Of constant harassment
As I grew my hair out
From it's conservative style.

Just phoning me
With offers to pay
For the hair cut
Which I hung up
On her.

Refusing to accept
Or believe
Her waning control
Over me
With each new "no".

Taking a neutral party
To stop her
And hammer out
A stressful truce
Between us.

Lasting
Until July 1, 2006
When you showed up
Unannounced and unexpected
At my apartment door
As is your wont to do.

Hell broke loose
As I answered the door
In a floral skirt and t-shirt.

Not sure
Who was
More surprised
You or I.

Staring at me
Like I had done
Something very wrong
To the universe.

Refusing to hear
What I had to say
Before cursing
And denouncing me
As your eldest child.

Well mom
Hell has frozen over
And I am not
Crawling back to you
Begging for your forgiveness.

Rather
Have turned my back
Upon your toxic demands
Blazing a new trail

Without you.

Therisa © 2014

Author's note: Another poem from my poetic vault.

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