I’m not the best at poetry, but I had a few things I needed to get out.
So, here it is:
When you misgender me,
I don’t get angry.
Instead, I lose an amount of respect.
For each time you label me as a binary,
a piece of trust attached to our friendship
breaks away and dies.
Why? Because with every misgendering moment
that has no apology or correction,
I realise the truth about you:
you seem to think you know me better than I know myself;
you’d rather cause me pain and discomfort;
suggest my safety is less important;
and that my existence is a hoax,
a charade, or a game for you to play.
You’re happier upsetting me so
you can remain comfortable.
When I correct you,
you hear me but don’t listen
– how do you think
that makes me feel?
And when you do hear me,
you act like the correction
of my pronouns and gender
are an inconvenience to you.
As if changing a few words in
your sentence causes more harm to you
than your disregard does to me.
Clearly, our friendship, relationship, love
isn’t enough for you to change.
You don’t want me
to be open or honest,
you just want me to fit into one
of your colour coded boxes.
That’s a mindset,
I’m not willing to work with.
After all the explanations
and knowledge I gave you,
you gave into the ignorance.
©Copyright of Castiel Gutierrez of Live Love Laugh Ranting