Over the Top

I am nonbinary.
More specifically, I am aporagender.
Not fluid,
Not half and half,
Not Woman Lite(tm).

I am a ball of fury sent from the heavens.
I am the exposition of the lies legalities tell.
I am the breath of changing winds,
The gory description of blood on icy water.

My gender is the screams of unheard children,
It's the rainbow flag with a big red Q painted over it.
It's the fear you can't explain when I say, they/them.

My gender is chaos,
Brimming under the cover of a thousand years of so-called order.
It's the rage of those who didn't say "Yes!"
To the lies they're made to eat, drink, and stand to as a confusing morning ritual.

My gender is fire
And rain
And things you don't understand.

It's the confusing array of questions you have when I tell you who I am,
The look of dissatisfaction when you hear "I'm different."
It's the friends I've lost,
The way I mourn,
And the family I've pushed away.

My gender is the constant battle against the monstrosity of society,
The war against hatred and ignorance.
It's the look I give you when you claim to identify as an attack helicopter.
The existential crisis I want to put you through for calling me "Ma'am."

My queerness is fury,
And fire,
A wall of guilt formed of brimstone.
It smells of sulfur
And demon piss.
The lies of the eternally saved.

I've been told I'm angry.
I'm too emotional.
I'm vocal,
Outspoken,
LOUDER THAN YOU WANT ME TO BE.

But not louder than is necessary,
Because after all is said and done,
After I've finished my tantrum
And you've learned to shut your mouth in my presence,
My body will remain your silent point.

A weapon to use against me.

My gender is over the top trans rage.