This poem draws inspiration from my salsa teacher, Andrea Gibson, and the Hampshire College meme page. Thanks also to my roommate Mira who pointed out that not all power has to be masculine.
Queer as in Fuck You
Do not mistake pretty for trustworthy
My pronouns are they/them/not yours
My lipstick is that shade of red because I have made it out of the blood of the men I have eaten
Like I will eat you too.
You call me girl and I say "not-girl"
You call me lady, woman, goddess
And I shrug these off like ill-fitting dresses
And you say "silly girl"
But I'm a flavor of femme that you've never held in your mouth
A flavor that you'll never taste--not even if you're lucky
And the fact that you'll never hold this femme inside you--
Does it drive you mad?
Does it make you angry?
My lipstick doesn't blush my lips so they are easier for you to find in the back seat of your shitty car
My lipstick is a reminder of the blood I have shed to get here
A call to my lips--notice me!
A call to my mouth--that I might be better heard against the sea of misogyny
These heels lift me up in the world,
So that I may see eye to eye
And I shave the sides of my head so that you remember there is a skull underneath my soft, tumbling hair
I pierce my own face with metal--a warning
If I could do this to my own face, just think how I could fuck you up...
Not gay as in happy but queer as in fuck you
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