There’s a fag in my closet I pray they don't smell him in my skin, I can’t help but notice the way blood dries on holy walls So I wear him- but only in the dark, Ironically I count my blessings that crossing the threshold doesn’t cost me a limb, There is no room for a jar of glitter in a religious world, His grin too big to fit this body, So I remember to bleach all of the color out of his smile, When I walked through the aisle I couldn't tell if it was a seat or sacrifice, Funny how they find joy in someone else's heartache, Would raise their hands in triumph from strength they took from me, Would rather I burn on a cross than pray to one.
A body decorated in this much glitter, Has no choice but to reject the faith, Your fate- a backyard of burning sticks, My skin- a black hoodie painted pink, white, and blue, But there will be no march when this black boy body presses pavement, This is for the little boy inside me who never got a chance to grow up, For the little girl forced to live out his lie, The scariest thing I've ever had to do was accept love and loss in the same second As if stepping outside the closet meant putting my family in one, Because no one wants to say they have a trannie in the family So I hid, with a latch around my neck, and a bottle of Advil in my back pocket Promised that i would hang myself before they ever got the chance. I learned Family, Will Love you in pieces, and overlook the holes, Call you sugar with a bitter taste in their mouth, So I had to black and white my glitter to reflect a silhouette of A body I spent years trying to forget, A chalk outline in a dream held me closer than my family did when i told them id rather kill myself than be transgender, They responded if you tried hard enough you can be normal, They became so good at picking out my flaws that they believed they had none, I was 16 years old when I felt the cold end of a park bench, Found myself without a home and a family, But that’s thing about glitter- Even after you throw it away, The sun will still reflect it dancing on your skin, The hardest thing about proclaiming my identity is proving I am not disposable, Even though there are so many parts of me I’d like to throw away.
When I was a kid my biggest fear was my shoes not matching my outfit- so the school bully would make me the laughing stock of the day, And now because my gender doesn't match my body I fear going toe to toe with a man twice my size, Who wants to teach me a lesson about what a real man is, As if stripping me of my virginity made me any less of the man I am, That night I had my two best friends jack and Daniel carry me to sleep I learned to breathe without a pulse In this world you don't die, You just turn cold enough to mask the heat, And it seems even though my heart has already frozen over I am always engulfed in the flame- A FAG.
Note from editors
Welcome to the online edition of Frostburg State University's Bittersweet Arts Magazine. Every day our students, faculty, and staff strive to make the world a little brighter through music, writing, painting, performing, and a myriad of other forms of expression. It is our hope that this edition captures the beauty that lives on Frostburg State University's campus.
Icons made by Daniel Bruce, Bogdan Rosu, and Pedro Nieto Villamandos from www.flaticon.com