or i swear i’m gonna burn this motherfucker down.
doctor don’t think i’ll do it. he say real
girls like boys. you sure you real? he say he use
science, but i know he a witch. he say
hormone pills take first-borns, second-borns,
every spark after. if that ain’t Rumpelstiltskin
type shit, if that ain’t twisted white magic
type shit then call me barren. call me
fish. call myself easier to find
in mirrors. sperm banks can save kids
for a price. they sterilized black girls once. still do.
get caught dreaming. i’m broke. pills ain’t cheap.
i walk outside to breathe. men call me tranny.
i necromance my dead and buried name.

___

i unbirth my bright and pulsing name.
i unopen. a boy armors my
receding skin. pass like my yellow great uncle
down south. bite down. the family tradition
pools on our tongues. inheritance. sheep
in wolf’s clothing. find a predator’s corpse.
wear its skin. sharpen our herbivore teeth. howl.
hope the cis don’t find us. hope the whites
don’t find us. hope power don’t smell
the undeniable prey in our blood. at least
women won’t shield their children from the sight
of me. at least men won’t chase till no home
is mine. at least packs of boys won’t tooth, claw, prove
they’re strong, i’m unwanted, we are not kin.

___

they’re strong. we’re unwanted. we could be kin
if they didn’t do you like Dead Black Trans Girl
Number— a therapist told me it’s “not healthy”
to keep count. light protection candles.
flames lick my fingers raw. wax builds
on altars. the girls’ good, yellow light goes
missing by morning. prayer is a scam.
the funny men make tranny jokes the day
she dies. somebody made a hashtag.
where’s my black girl magic now? if sorcery be
make me dark spell, necromance sisters
from dead-named graves, magic a murder of girls
ungone, crown me lich matron, undying,
make me real and mother to some good thing.

___

imagine me, real and mother of some
good one: my reflection, simply mine.
the boys still ain’t shit but now i get less
death threats around my block. the gender reveal
party happens after my kid lets me know
what their gender is. the party is lit.
like candles on an altar. i burn
my fingers lighting my child’s favorite cake.
i ask, what is your wish? they say i wish
you stayed unreal, chose me. flames melt my child,
my body, and everything i love to nightmare.
dream home, and all its light will be
missing by morning. smoke’s surrounding. i’m
swallowed whole, grasping for my almost-child.

___

swallow the hormone pills whole. almost-child
is gasping, desperate for first breath. i told dad
i’m queer. he said he really wanted
grandchildren. once, i really wanted
a father. this isn’t healthy. i keep count
anyway. a murder of girls caws
at my altar. i keep on raising my dead
name so i don’t join them. magic myself
smoke, bleach: my good yellow undone. men still
call me tranny. we could’ve been kin.
we twisted up in white magic then undone.
great uncle wore wolves’ clothes the day he died.
i might too. i need our miracle now
or i swear i’m gonna burn.

poetry-magazinemy miracle now

my miracle now