pride monththe pharmacy down the streethas a sign on its sliding doorit says ‘everyone is welcome’though it wasn’t there before with playful, blocky textdecorated in progressive coloursit certainly does not feel this waythough, maybe it does to others? because he still walks to the countertugging, pulling at his baggy shirthe asks for the birth control quietlyafraid it might get him hurt it still says ‘feminine paper’in the aisle near the cashiernot period nor menstrualbecause god forbid the children hear all the congratulatory cards and baby clothesare pink for girls and blue for boysas if a child has the foresight, the freedomto question their parents’ choice the flags and celebratory hatsare covered in logos of sterilised whiteas companies attempt to ownthe struggle for our human rights on being trans, though i can’t speak to thati can certainly criticize, when a bar is set this lowwhen all he’s ever felt the need to saywas an apology for being so i do not know if i believe youdespite the sign on your front door… isn’t it just a performance for the customersso that they’ll give you more?privilege vs. allowanceit is such a kindnessto allow somebody to beexactly as they arei am so very sorrythat you were never handed it and thank youfor the allowanceof myselfi have neverhad the privilege beforerebellionevery time i smilelaugh, rejoice, singevery time i am given kindnessand every time i am smiled ati win, over and over and overfor there is no greater rebellionthan my existencehomefallen out of the midnight skya deep-end drop into starlit seascoming down to dusted earthin a tragic, yet brilliant blaze of glorypast millions of strings of lightyears of luminescence awayhe finds home