(no subject)
Remember when we were children?
Remember when were friends?
We'd draw and draw for hours
Our pencils tracing infinite possibility
I would draw a man
you would draw a woman
distinct identities at the very ends of a pink and blue color spectrum
one wore a triangle the other wore pants
clothing concealed no sex
do you ever feel compelled to ask
Whats that under her triangle is she anatomically correct?
i never asked why his pants did not bulge or if his rectangular shirt concealed breasts
back then things were different before life erased our innocence
and stick line like limbs became borders not to cross
before vaginas and penises held the bulk of our identities
before friendship became contingent on breasts and flat chats
before you saw rectangles and triangles on bathroom stalls
as images sacred enough to berate and kill for
and before we were both forced to forge our identities from the truths of our broken friendship
Yes long before march 16th in underground atlanta when you banged on my bathroom stall, demanded to know what i pissed with, and decided to punish and embarass me for it
before you confused the authority you felt because of the dick between your legs with the power of your security badge
before you murdered Jordy Jones in 1994 and called him a cross-dresser in the local paper
and I hated you for it but could do nothing
Before you marched and sang with me in protests for glbt equality
Remember when were friends?
We'd draw and draw for hours
Our pencils tracing infinite possibility
I would draw a man
you would draw a woman
distinct identities at the very ends of a pink and blue color spectrum
one wore a triangle the other wore pants
clothing concealed no sex
do you ever feel compelled to ask
Whats that under her triangle is she anatomically correct?
i never asked why his pants did not bulge or if his rectangular shirt concealed breasts
back then things were different before life erased our innocence
and stick line like limbs became borders not to cross
before vaginas and penises held the bulk of our identities
before friendship became contingent on breasts and flat chats
before you saw rectangles and triangles on bathroom stalls
as images sacred enough to berate and kill for
and before we were both forced to forge our identities from the truths of our broken friendship
Yes long before march 16th in underground atlanta when you banged on my bathroom stall, demanded to know what i pissed with, and decided to punish and embarass me for it
before you confused the authority you felt because of the dick between your legs with the power of your security badge
before you murdered Jordy Jones in 1994 and called him a cross-dresser in the local paper
and I hated you for it but could do nothing
Before you marched and sang with me in protests for glbt equality