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.
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
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