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Going Fourth


Image: Jenny Saville (c)

And somewhere between midnight & morning 

you write your story on your skin while the world sleeps on untroubled by your fears

i've watched you grow from distance 

through systems that failed you 

through homes that weren't homes 

through hands that weren't kind

& what kind of person am i?

standing witness but never warrior 

sending birthday cards into the void 

while you carved your pain into permanence


child of spring, child of rebirth 

your name a promise unfulfilled 

your body a revolution 

your existence a poem i never deserved to read

borne of a sister that lost herself in chemical dreams 

& nameless men with hungry eyes 

while the state pretended to save you 

from one hell to deliver you to another

i remember you a child before they took you 

before they tried to tell you who you were supposed to be

now at fourteen you've claimed yourself 

despite their boxes & labels 

despite their dead names & wrong pronouns

the cuts you make speaks louder than my silence 

this girl emerging from imposed boyhood 

braver than i could ever be

somewhere in this broken city 

you're becoming butterfly 

while i, coward & bystander, 

write useless verse instead of burning buildings

what use are my words to you? 


what comfort is distant love? 


what healing is belated words?

you in the halfway house 

you in the system's maze 

you in the body finally your own

i should have fought harder 

should have screamed louder 

should have been the one you needed 

not the one who watched from safety

now i can only offer this— 

i see you, beautiful one 

i hear your howl against the starry night 

i honour your becoming

& if words mean anything in this world that failed you 

let these be testament that someone knew your worth

fourth month child, 

season of renewal 

your name like spring rain 

washing away dead leaves 

your truth is the only poem that matters

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