The Privilege of Not Existing Yet

There is a heavy muffled comfort in this lack of language
A pile of labels that don’t quite fit
A comforting distant dull/sharp pain

Maybe I am just used to this
A mumbled curse
A defeated shrug

How can I convince you I exist
When there aren’t even words for this
For me
For my life and breath

I could give you a universe of words
Genderqueer
Non-binary
Transmasculine
Transgender
Bisexual
Pansexual
Queer
Greyromantic
Demisexual
A universe of labels that almost fit
That almost make sense
That almost have the shape of me in them

Almost
But not quite

My shadow stretches long and lonely
My spirit feels disquiet lick it’s cold grey lips
This tired inability to quite put a finger on it

To define it
To define me
So that you believe that i am real

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