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Imaginary Things

No Angels

By Bex JordanPublished about a month ago 1 min read
Will Power

I tried so hard for so long

To be some

Acceptable version of me,

A bite-sized, single-serve package

That fit inside

Whatever box I could shove my

Too-big frame into.

My poor attempt at 'normal,'

(And yes, I know that's

just a setting on a machine)

But that straight, cis

Version of "her" never

Existed. It's taken half

My life to realize the lies were

Killing me.

She was Plexi-glass and

Gelatin, a trick of the

Light a bite

Could end.

Angles, darling…

But there are no

Angels in America

It was just a thing to

Top a temple or a tree with,

But in reality, they were

Monsters with a hundred eyes

And four sets of terrible

Wings, not pretty women with

Kind faces and

Good intentions,

That's an imaginary creation

Of man, and mind

(maybe even mine).

heartbreaksocial commentaryinspirational

About the Creator

Bex Jordan

She/They. Writer. Gardener. Cat-Lover. Nerd. Always looking up at the sky or down at the ground.

Profile photo by Román Anaya (https://www.roman-anaya.com/).

Instagram: @UmaSabirah

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