To my mother: When I was born I became a thorn in your pocket You wanted me to be Anthony I disappointed you You raised me as Antoinette My picture not even in your locket You couldn't protect me, they erased me To my living sister: When I grew up You called me Toni with… Continue reading Poem: You couldn’t protect me, they erased me
Yes, I was a cutter.
I was a cutter. I want to own "was" a cutter, because I do not want to feed that monster no more. Triggers can sometimes bring back this self-destructive behavior. Being born intersex, and not being able to be my authentic gender, messed me up bad. You see, I was assigned a girl, when… Continue reading Yes, I was a cutter.