6 of 30: 2017*

to the crack enthusiast who inadvertently helped me to accept myself by verbally berating me with a series of gender slurs for not giving them a dollar in front of the supermarket: thank you.

i went home
got angry
and cried

and i thought about your input

you confused me for a dude
i was your man
and i got pissy and corrected you
and you persisted about the dollar
which i honestly didn’t have
having just finished counting change
to pay for the few items in my bag

and i said something witty like
fuck you or fuck off because
fuck you still
you were
if you’re still pedaling about this earth
are an asshole

you followed me halfway through the parking lot
throwing shit like
maybe if i dressed like a fucking female
i need to wear make-up
and so on

and i’m cleaning up and distilling the language
but that was the gist
and you weren’t the first person
and you weren’t the last either
but you caught me
at one of the worst points in my life

but you were the first one i told to fuck off over it
and i got to own myself in that moment
so i got in the car
and i screamed myself home
and i cried
and it fucking hurt

it felt like the sting of breathing fresh air
after clawing out of a grave in a tempest bloody
and i knew who i was in my totality
the parts began to click and sum whole

because i realized i get equally irritated
being called a girl
and you were wrong
and i was wrong, too

and rules regarding attraction were meant to be broken
and gender lines were meant to be crossed
and danced on
and hopped over at will

it meant being alright with feeling emasculated
by the dress hanging in my closet on tuesday
and rocking it on thursday
because it’s my preference
and i feel most like a girl
when i walk down a city street at night
but i’m all guy when i take the mic
and i feel most like nothing
when i’m in the moment
because it doesn’t much matter either way
and it is still my preference

it’s my fucking life
so i’m going to love whom i want
wear what i feel like
and live

because pricked dicks such as yourself are everywhere
and i’ve never found the combination
that will make your judgement happy
and i’m not here for you, anyway

i’m not dressed up to please your preconceptions
i’m not yours at all
because i’m not an object
i was imbued with sentience
and i’m not inclined to critique your life-choices
so i’d appreciate the same courtesy

and honestly
i think if you opened your heart up a little
you would find
that a chick with a dick
can really blow your mind

because humanity is more a spectrum
than binary

that’s why i like sadomasochistic lady-boy porn
and you’re hitting-up strangers
outside a supermarket

*the title was too long to put in the field and feel alright about it.


About Moly

Average, boring, self-involved human. Twitter: @CultOfCocktails Facebook: facebook.com/MolyTov
This entry was posted in Poetry, Written, Written Work and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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