Nails and skull

Punch holes in me, coward

Let my skull sprout it’s flowers

.

Grab a hammer, take these nails,

Go thud, trip a trepanning hammer

.

I’m fine while I stay in motion but

At rest I’m dead, drowning in my own head.

.

Have I ever had a mood of my own

Or just misfiring synapses

.

I can see them, though unclear.  Illusions

Distortions of mind, culture, and ear

.

What’s it going to take to break through this Wall of Silence?

I suspect that there are people on the other side of it.

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The Maenad (She/Hers) Transgender Goddess, an activist, artist, poet, publisher, sex worker, and author of creative non-fiction, erotica, fantasy, and science fiction.

Her work has appeared @corporealitmag @engendered @gutslutpress @fahmidanjournal @redplanetmag @wickedgayways @365tomorrows, within the Gongfarmer’s Almanac and on Madwomen in the Attic.

Her first chapbook, a work of trans erotic liberation, the Ishtar Cycle, is available from @lupercaliapress

Find her @dreaminggynoid on Twitter and @scarlet_maenadum on IG