Fire

Graphic by Nieves Winslow

 

local gossip: crazy girl shaves her head

and dresses like boy and looks like boy and wants to be called boy

but will never be

boy;

dumb girl wants to crawl out of her south asian skin

she is embarrassed by its color and has

learned how to bury her accent

 

i’m not in the wrong body;

just in the wrong world

this world erases my very existence

 

growing up, isolated

i never learned how people like me

could ever exist in such a hostile world

 

too brown to be a convenient queer

too queer to be a “model minority”

too dark to be pretty, yet always “exotic”

too non-conforming to fit in anywhere

 

society sets my multifaceted identity aflame

tearing me down in seconds

 

why does your father let you dress like that,

aren’t indians supposed to be conservative?

i bet your family doesn’t like your hair –

it’s so short, not traditional, when will you let it grow out?

isn’t “it” an indian girl? why can’t i call “it” she?

 

stop trying to get attention

and focus on studying studying studying

one bad grade and “aren’t asians supposed to be smart?”

you’re just lazy, stupid,

too fat too ugly too hairy too dark (for a girl)

too broken

 

some days i believe their ugly slurs

letting them embed in my skin,

i become the obedient, feminine, traditional

broken little brown girl, again

it will never be good enough; i can’t win

 

some days the ground beneath my feet is glass

that society could shatter easily

some days it is a minefield, one misstep,

and everything turns to flames

 

but i use their vicious fire to spark a match,

lighting me up inside

 

allowing me to burn this bridge

to unzip this suffocative skin

exposing the multicolored hue of my blood

showing off my agender, bisexual, indian-american,

intersectional, proud soul

 

sorry for the loss of the “perfect indian girl”

we all know she never existed at all