bury me in my most beloved outfit
of the day
but make sure i have something
extra
in case the next day
is a different gender
or vibe
[i wouldn’t want to be misgendered
in the afterlife
or by the tiny larvae
exploding through my skin
eating me from the inside]
i can’t wait to be
a few slivers of fabric
and mostly bones
and maybe someone will figure out how to tattoo on my ribcage
‘nonbinary’
so every archaeologist will know
to make no assumptions
from my skeleton’s makeup
just vibe with the tiniest microorganisms
that i brought with me
daily
and i’ll try to explain
to st. peter
or hades
or whomever i have to
what being ‘gender chaotic’ really means
and hopefully
after i’ve shuffled off this mortal coil
and no longer have to adhere to a physical form
i can be what i’ve always thought of myself
internally
nonbinary poetry
November 27, 2024
birthday poems:
~~~
cotton candy coffee
for my birthday morning
and remembering the good things
that happened this year
[so next time i can only see
the terrible, i have something
to comfort me]
~~~
aging
in an age
where my own kin
are more likely to die
before this age
than i
simply because of the color of their skin
and their femininity called into question
and it aches in my whole
soul
to know
the hatred faced is meaningless
in the grand scheme of the universe
but the effects of suffering
very much
matter
in this day and age
where we have so much
what happened to humanity
that hoarding became more socially acceptable
than sharing
and giving
~~~
like a kid
on their birthday
here i am
on mine
trying
to follow the dopamine
and have a good time
but our puppy is sick
[though doing so much better!]
and there is so much pain and suffering
in the world
that’s about to get
a whole lot
worse
and i know if i
follow my own drive
and sense of self
i can do things
for me
while at the same time
following/providing
helping hands
for others
[all while battling the existential crisis
that is
turning 27 for a ninth time]
July 8, 2024
it’s funny how gender-affirming sparkly nail polish can be
for me
for my estimation of in-between genders/
outside of the binary/
erring towards chaos/
creative/
forgoing gender
for individual
whatever/
in that mode
sparkles
on my nails
feels so
right
February 29, 2024
a first leap day
of this poetry project
and i’m still stuck in my head
in processing a dream i had
about churches on roller coaster tracks
and fast fast carousel spins of UU congregations
for the purpose of awareness
for the purpose of social change
for saying Nex Benedict’s name
and never again
never again
never again
February 11, 2024
be your own
woodland
fairy
princex
December 30, 2023
seeing my
[zombie]/[dead] name
doesn’t necessarily bring me pain
it’s really just the expectation of
family
or spam mail of each variety
[either way, i kind of just roll my eyes
and get on with my day]
January 12, 2023
if i write
what i always needed
as a child
what might that be?
because i was pretty satisfied
when i was that age
of the grand adventures
and imaginative natures
of many of the stories
with heroes who looked
a lot like
me
but what i need now
is to have noticed i needed then
a mix between girl and boy/
that any harsh division
is unnecessary/
and that i don’t/didn’t need to carry
the weight of an entire gender
on my young shoulders.
should i write
a protagonist
who thinks that?
or would they simply come off
as
your early 2000’s Mary Sue
(and since when has that stopped
any aging white boy
from doing
pretty much
exactly that?)
January 4, 2023
i’m not a boy
or a girl
or a human really
i’m just a chaotic mess
a bundle of sads and stress
stuck together
hiding
in a trenchcoat
trying to get tickets
to something
i probably shouldn’t see
you feel me?
November 20, 2022
i wrote a snarky poem
for Trans Week of Awareness
telling y’all to be aware of me:
my gender, chaotic
my joy, revolutionary.
and still i talked about our siblings who are silenced
through legislation
through societal constraints
through direct, abhorrent violence–
but for an act so violent
to be what wakes me up
on Trans Day of Remembrance…
it just feels too
too
too too
much
i have no conclusion to this poem
Stop
Killing
Us.
October 24, 2022
i wonder
if my mother
would have been great
at getting my pronouns
right
would she have stood up for me
at family gatherings
corrected people
when i wasn’t near
would she have been
the ally
i needed
to come out
with a bang
instead of this subtle
exhausting
whispered
coming out
over
and over
and over
again
every time
a ‘she’ is uttered
or a ‘ladies’ is announced
or any of those microaggressions
my gender dysphoria
insists
are actual aggression
i don’t know
i wish i knew
but i really don’t
she was an ally of all queer folks she knew
(I know 100% she’d have been to my wedding
would have celebrated like the world was ending
when she knew mine was just beginning
because that’s just the way she was)
but gender is somehow harder
and the in-between confuses even the best
of allies
and i don’t want to put her up on a pedestal
nor do i want to underestimate her devotion
to a me she never got to see
i only knew her for eleven and three quarters years
and i have memories of less
she is both the person i was closest to
and the biggest mystery of my life
and i just wish
i could guess
what it would be like
to have her
stand up
for me
kipventures 