By Emma Vosicky
Christ,
It’s cold in here!
Outside:
Perfect Spring Day;
Early May;
Uncertain sun
Playing hide & seek;
With unpatterned clouds.
Cold air thawing into heat.
Inside:
Heat reverts
To frigid air;
Gates snapping shut
Behind my back
As I advance
Into my mother’s house.
They know;
They’ve all known.
But now, they see
Me
In the way I’m
“Not supposed to be”:
A woman;
Reddish hair;
Makeup, breasts.
They could not care less
That I’ve summoned
Every reserve of my courage –
Scrounging it from hidden, unkempt corners –
To reveal myself to them.
The room closes in
Left & right;
Dead-fish stares
While my brother glowers and glares.
They need to break me,
Shatter my soul,
Shame me into a gutter,
Preserve the status quo.
Sorry, you lose!
I will stand tall –
A little taller in heels –
Look you straight in the eye,
Display the dignity
Already mine,
For which I’ve strived
So very long and hard.
Yes, each slight,
Each cruelty,
Stings, cuts, burns,
But know
That my soul
You will never own.
I depart your cooler,
Battered but intact.
Stonewall is not an event.
It is a moment,
Personal to each life,
And returning
Time and
Time and
Time again;
A choice
Repeated without end
To rise up
Proud
Distinct from the crowd
Demanding respect
For who we are.
Emma Vosicky is a transgender author/spouse/parent/attorney who has completed her first book, Between the Gender Lines, a compilation of short stories exploring the gender experience. She would love to hear from you (and that includes potential publishers) at emmavwrites@comcast.net.