Bravado

After the commercials, more breaking news
My body is an argument
For people to fight over, sink their teeth into
That soft skin under binded chests, chewing me up
Just to taste defeat

I am sick of being a picket line by myself
Every step disobedient
I am always only living “Despite it all,” they say
“You’re so strong.” for breathing straight, moving on
And they love me

But not my sisters on unsteady sets of heels
Still learning womanhood
Who wear their pink dresses that get stained red in the
Dark alleyways between bright, busy Little Rock streets
Then end up lost

I taste better to them, I’m easy to look at
I don’t make them think
I wish I was a more bitter flavor sometimes
Hidden under the privilege of their picky palates
Making them vomit

But I am a weak little traitor for them
I make a sacrifice
Of my identity, of my comfort, of my earned self
So that they can clear their minds and relax, continue
Ignoring their vices

There are things I’d like to say, sometimes
To snap them out
Of the ignorant and blissful world they love living in
And lead them to the unforgiving depth of our pain
But I’m not a person

I’m a trophy on their wall, their excuse to keep
Turning a blind eye
I’m enough activism for them, they’re so generous
To offer me their friendship like a gift, because I’m
Forgivably queer 

Carter Kirby (he/they) is a 17-year-old upcoming poet based in Arkansas. His work explores the gritty truth of queerdom in the South, the ugly and uncertainty of growing up, and the anger of the underrepresented.