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Jade woke to the sound of hail tapping at her window.

It was cold in her room, cold enough to prevent her from going back to sleep easily, but not cold enough to justify walking across the hall to the ancient thermostat and shifting it to the “on” position.


Growing up working class means that you’re constantly holding your breath and hoping.

Hoping that you don’t need braces.

Hoping that your family’s fifteen-year-old car doesn’t break down.

Hoping that no one in your family has medical emergencies.

Hoping that a pink slip doesn’t show up in your dad’s hands…

Grey streaks smeared under sunken eyes

Contrast a porcelain face

With freckles spattered like shit

Long brown hair

Matted and mousy

Nails gnawed to the cuticle

I look in the mirror

And I don’t recognize her

I don’t recognize most people now

Names and faces flash across a silver screen

I don’t know where my best friend is.

We met in seventh grade.

And spent every sunlit, summer hour together

before she disappeared to

a private school

in northern texas

we used to stay up for hours

to bridge the gap

with our telephone cord

until one day

like frozen breath disappearing

we stopped talking.

I haven’t really made friends since

so whenever people asking me who my best friend is

I tell them my best friend lives in Texas

but I’m 28 now

I’m not sure if you live in Texas anymore

or if you’re even alive

Your dad said I was classless.

Your preacher said I was hopeless.

I really tried my hardest.

I don’t think that you noticed.

I am a house on fire

and everyone around me is an onlooker

Eager to watch me burn

But uninterested in helping me

They sit


As everything I’ve ever worked for gets eaten by the flames

The struggles of intersex intercourse

Being intersex has been, and will continue to be, the most beautiful struggle I’ve ever faced.

Some days my internalized testes make me feel like I can do absolutely anything I put my mind to.

Other days, my superficial vaginal canal is the bane of my existence.

Having to “come…

What can I do?

When my whole personality is you?

All my favorite books are ones you’ve placed on the shelves of my mind.

The scratching noises your old records make are on a constant repeat in my ears.

And although I don’t miss you like I used to,


Most nights I lie on my bed and pray that the memory foam pressed to my face would swallow me whole and set me free. As I’d sink deeper into oblivion, I would be freed of all my responsibilities, moral obligations, and tedious deadlines.

Unfortunately, there’s no universe awaiting me…

Frustration is by far the most malevolent incarnation of human emotion. There is beauty in sadness, relief in anger, but frustration is an accumulation of all the most disgusting parts of negative emotion.

It serves no purpose and resurfaces frequently.

Frustration manifests itself in my life by thinking the finish…


the girl with the mousy hair

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