Take This Body, Which Was Broken For Me
By Juniper Cassaway
Illustrious, sparkling, non-binary shell,
The one that wept in the shower,
(or before an altar)
An upright bathroom coffin that replaced a pew,
Shower curtains that just won’t stay closed.
Pray tell, why spill water on the floor
When you can bathe in the baptismal tub that is a little holier than thou,
Just because it is housed in a church?
Are not trans tears just a retelling of the crucifixion of our lord and savior?
The flogging of top surgery scars are indeed where they whipped Him.
Wouldn’t you say we are just the same?
The holy justification of a death to self for the preservation of all people;
All people being the justification of the persecution of trans bodies.
Trans souls, however, are encased in a never ending holy trinity of trials,
A sentencing from hell not even the Christ could endure.
Trans-spirits transcend the transcontinental truncated existence of trans lives,
And this one trans body is feeling the weight of everlasting cis saviorism,
As if there is a lack of makeshift evangelical leadership causing the trivialization of trans rights.
Enbys, enbies, and-bees are in distinct extinction from the very farms that are aware of the raising in which they are participating: the very construction of a holy nest that has been deconstructed into a comb with no honey
(then they want to blame us for the lack of sweetness).
Yet, the tomb - or the throne room - has been empty since the Queen vacated it.
The King Bee has resumed his duties and with it, killed the Womb of Life from which He Himself hatched.
Trans masc bees are the example here, if only the Church could take note to build their kingdom upon that which lasts forever:
The Tree of One’s Own Life.
Trans people are Saviors;
But is no freedom in death when living freely took their life;
Black trans women are God:
The Mother, Daughter, and Holy Spirit split up into so many cells that non-binary people now exist
If not only to defy the gender
of the holy of holies, the upper room;
The same shower curtain that was split in two at the sound of the cries mourning the loss of our trans children.
Let us come now together and pray for the renewal of minds and the
triumphant declaration of liberation for trannies everywhere.
While again, cis saviorism comes to say that there cannot be freedom when we continue to oppress ourselves.
And to that I say: show me the trans person who is dead by their own hand.
Now show me the trans person who is dead by another’s.
We are not the same.
Pay It No Mind how many trans people are unearthed in their aliveness,
Disturbing the peace everywhere.
This enby, for one, is taking up space the way the sun lights up the earth:
Fully and warmly; Ever present even in winter, though its effects are not the same.
In the beginning,
Trans women created the heavens and the earth.
And they saw that it was good.
Currently residing in Baton Rouge