Her son
Her eyes were as stained as his wrists.
She took his bloody body trying to awaken the limp boy.
She looked up to a note he had left for her.
“Sarah!” She cried for her son.
She stood and staggered over to the paper.
“The pride parade you scoffed at,
You screamed ‘turn up your nose and run!’
In that moment did you know
your daughter was your son?
When you teased
And accused
We Poisoned Christianity for fun
Did you know then that your daughter was your son?
You didn’t once ask my name
You told me to hide my shame
You hurt me with sirens in your words that are loud and angry
Cutting remarks like daggers in my side
Weights from your mouth that mocked me
But I never listened.
You always said men don’t listen.
Right?
My name
Is James.
Signed, your son.
Goodbye.”