No, please,
tell me again about me,
tell me what it is that you see;
what you know;
what I show you.
Tell me about the things of which I’m intimately aware;
Dare at pretence of your own omniscience.
Tell me about me,
you, stranger, whom I’ve never met,
train me like your neglected pet,
coming to tell me to shut up about my pain.
while you remain stubbornly the same,
-holder of the keys-
-keeper of the jail-
you screaming at my coffin,
as you drive another nail,
you, with your smile like every man before you.
Teeth: hungry for the next body you oppress.
Eyes: like left-fork and right-knife eating at your duress.
Your hands: eager to undress.
Misgendering my body at your convenience,
and telling me that my rejection of your violence,
is somehow a violation of your rights.
I see you, manchild.
I’ve known you all your life.
There is nothing new or special about your bigotry.
I’ve outlived a thousand attacks on my body and mind.
I’m one of a kind.
I’m not going anywhere.