FicWad

bind her chest,
her secrets
and throw her
to the vultures.

there is beauty
in dysphoria.
no, beauty
isn’t the right word.

there is death
in the misinterpretation
of her body.

cling wraps, binders, blades,
scalpels, shock therapy,
suicidal tendencies.

unholy,
infected
breath.

there is no safety,
love, nor belonging found
in the empty craters
of his flat chest.

no,
sorry.
her
chest.

tuck and hide, and tuck
and hide, and tuck and hide.

lady gaga,
do not glamorize
her. do not cut
yourself on latex
and call it fashion.

she cannot hide
behind carefully planned
choreography
and telephones.

she can only hide
in neglected, dusty closets,
male bones, stolen
identities,
and sickness.