I have a mouth that speaks They/Them, but a body that screams She/Her
My throat is burned with the ashes of the ones before me. My trans siblings of color who were trapped inside themselves.
Declaring their names over loudspeaker onto empty bleachers and silent auditoriums.
There is not any space where my identity is safe. Every time I open social media I am met with our massacres retweeted or liked.
In their eyes I see my reflection, a painful reminder that I might be next. That my family could one day receive that call.
I never tell people I am nonbinary right away; I wait on bated breath for clashing teeth and flared nostrils.
I am shocked when I hear encouraging words, I feel my soul light up as if all my trans siblings are smiling too.
You say my pronouns are “grammatically incorrect”, I say they’re my salvation.
I have a mouth that demands They/Them, and a body that deserves to take up space.
Blaine Babbidge is a Sophomore at CCSU studying Theater and Writing. In their free time they enjoy true crime documentaries and watching Marvel movies.
Header Photo Credit: Wei Ding