a dark foggy mountaintop atop which stand three small colorful queers: one light-skinned wearing a scarf tangling in the wind, one brown and fat, and the third one-armed, disabled, and black, with an afro and using a cane.


here is a poem about being non-binary and exhausted.


lots of tw’s for the description bc i go into my life lots and my life has been horrid for the past few weeks: illness, caps, suicidal thoughts, abuse mention (marked), gaslighting (marked)

content warnings for poem: binarism & transphobia implied, effects of depression

to skip description click here. take care of urselves please ❤


(yes, i know it’s been three weeks since i last posted sorry)

i managed to get sick last week (in the middle of may. honestly) and that tired me out so much. then i also decided to low key have a break down last last sunday (5/21) involving:

screenshot of tweet by @caedenzeodd (my account's locked currently btw) marked with a trigger warning for suicide. it reads: 'i don't want to live in a world in which i have to fight for my gender.' underneath it in parentheses it reads 'don't worry, i'm safe, just angry adn (sic) tired'
o rite my twitter’s on lockdown right now, i’m in the Mood. also i changed my display name to 2000+ rainbows bc guess what IT’S MY FIRST PRIDE!!!!

i always feel on the edge of a meltdown lately so that’s just fantastic isn’t it

also my therapist (i have a therapist now, i may have forgotten to mention this, how does my blog even work) got sick last wednesday (5/24?) and i couldn’t see her which was Fun and Exciting. right before finals! hurrah!!

[tw gaslighting, abuse] also my mom doesn’t think my abuse was real. she’s been trying to talk to me but how the hell is that supposed to happen when she’s gaslighting the hell out of me. fuck. [end tw]

but we read two poems in our lit class. one was sestina by elizabeth bishop and the other was ode to sadness by pablo neruda (i’ve said this before [on twitter] and i’ll say it again: poc poets are 1230898798787x better than white ones). i didn’t like sestina much but ode to sadness is so, so good. here’s a link.

a poet lives here. no sadness may cross this threshold.

this poem is kind of like that. fuck you, sorrow.


i am tired and exhausted of
your endless binaries.
the line between yes and no
isn’t a boundary my states recognize
even though you point me toward
just one side.

i’m the one on the ground,
existing in the graveyard you so long ago
buried — you’re not the one here.
you’re not the one fighting.
you can’t see that i’m not
balancing on a wicker tightrope but
standing steady.

don’t call me brave or
my story sad. get out, throw your pity
to the wind and your tongue out the
window. use your words
somewhere else. i do not have to be
gentle: you have no right
to deny me my anger.

with the muck in which i am mired
i have made myself anew. i thrive
despite your violent ignorance.
i root myself in your hollow earth.

here are my hinterlands.
here is who i have become.
i come from underneath
the things you thought you knew
and i overthrow them.

inhaling is hard when your world
questions my reality, but i will breathe the
shit out of your air.


6 thoughts on “hinterlands”

  1. I love this. Especially these parts:

    “with the muck in which i am mired
    i have made myself anew. i thrive
    despite your violent ignorance.
    i root myself in your hollow earth.”


    “i come from underneath
    the things you thought you knew
    and i overthrow them.”

    YES. Let’s do just that. 🔥 (hi I am a fellow nb who found you through Twitter)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. hihihi!! im glad u enjoyed it omg. keep crushing the binary ❤

      welcome to the blog!! though i haven't been very active, i'm vaguely in the process of setting up a new blog/site but idk if i'll be blogging a lot
      anyway feel free to say hi on twitter i promise i don't bite 🙂


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