I stumbled across a poem I wrote a full two decades before I was open about the queerness of my gender. I sometimes feel like I was leaving myself breadcrumbs so that when I finally realized how lost I was, I’d be able to find my way home. This is one of those breadcrumbs.
For folks using text readers:
The clothes, they feel wrong But the fault’s in the wearer In terror of being Exactly myself With the clothes That I chose From the piles on my shelf I’m pretending I’m someone I’m not Someone else Someone normal And happily lost in the crowd When I’m lost in this shroud In this lie Over-false Truer walls around feelings That don’t match my pulse
And I’ve twisted around From the me I should be That even my clothes Have rebelled against me
Saying, “There are some things That we have to discuss. For we’d rather you naked, Than fake it, With us.”
by H. E. Casson
(CW: Eating disorder, gender dysphoria, body discomfort)
I ate a thin girl for breakfast today I heard her bones crackle as they gave way I watched my belly grow in size I saw the fat distending my thighs She tasted like two-day-old gristly chicken I thought, as my arms touched my sides as they thickened
I ate a skinny girl for lunch I heard her crunch
I ate a slender girl for dinner She didn’t even flinch She swallowed the air until she was thinner Counted every inch
I ate a thin girl for breakfast today (I used to be like you, I grinned) In keeping my promise I fed her a steak Then carefully shovelled her in
I ate a thin girl last night as a snack I was a thin girl and I’m not going back
My new flash fiction short story, Seeking Same, is up on Apparition Lit. Written with an eye to passing the Topside Test, this story is about non-binary love, computer dating, and the ways we find ourselves in, with, and reflected by others.