A slam poetry chapbook about my story with mental illness. Trigger warnings for depression, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, abuse, dissociation, graphically described self-harm, suicidal ideation.

Definition of a Queerplatonic Partner

Are you just friends, or...?

There is nothing ‘just’ about it.

I read a line somewhere[1] that went “I love you like a depressive loves hypomania,” and

I love some people like that,

like a craving,

a drug,

a need to be ever closer even when we’re right next to each other.

romantic love.

But em, em I love like

a cup of hot tea

after a long day of freezing with a

sore throat.

Ey loves me like

shutting the door

on a loud party

ey was kind of enjoying.

Things were all right before

but with me it’s

oh

thank heavens

here we are.

home.

To summarize:

Would I live with em? Yes.

Would I marry em? Yes.

Would I walk down the street holding hands with em? Yes.

Would I defend em in a heartbeat? Yes.

Would I drop everything for em? Yes.

Do I have romantic feelings for em? No.

Does ey take my breath away with sheer beauty and how much I love em? No.

Do I yearn to be always, ever closer, to touch, to hold, to kiss em? No.

Do I feel the need to ask eir permission to date someone? No.

Is ey the person I want to tell first when something good happens, and the first person I go to for comfort when something bad happens? Yes.

Is ey the person I call when I need help? Yes.

Is ey the person I have real, concrete plans not to lose after graduation? Yes.

Is ey my partner, in every important sense? Yes.

---

[1] “This is not a romantic poem” by Nimm, babyseraphim.tumblr.com

Part of my experience coming to Spain/the novel condensed into a poem

Ella, se dicen, ella, senorita,

Y no sé si puedo be trans here.

No sé puedo decir, este género no es lo mío.

No soy mujer, no soy hombre

And I don’t even know enough about this language to know

if that doesn’t just mean no soy adulto.

And you thought it was hard

getting gente estadosunidense

to use they pronouns

My pronouns, mi ‘ele’ y ‘senore’

are not to be found anywhere but in the radical queer spaces

that I can’t find.

‘Cause I’m glad you guys

got gay marriage

but that doesn’t help me

I’m not interested in your

white bread poster child gay boys

and lesbianas who are ‘just like you’

respectability politics shit.

Give me your QPOC

Your agender, aromantic bi pan trans

Your nonbinary, agender, genderqueer and

none of the above.

Give me your disabled queers and your mentally ill.

Mierda

Give me your queers who never get to see themselves on television.

Que están enojadas radical feministas

Que se dan miedo un poco

Who don’t give a shit about respectability politics

because it never helped them before

not while pretty white boys are the faces of queer

Pero, ¿existen en este país? ¿Dónde están?

These are my people, this is my home

Pero en esta lengua, no tengo las palabras.

No sé how to ask.