It screamed with rage. A scream from one who’d been mortally betrayed; fooled into tortuous existence, as all of us have been.
It cried ‘Forged!’ for instantly it knew what it was. Like a wild boar in human form, and the parody of a girl, dwarfish with a plait, but more genderwild than girl. They had been conjured into pain by distant men.
This was in the remains of a corporate training room or a bar, or one inside the other.
This being was me but not me, recalling the shy boy I always was, the boy that some thought to touch, with only my confused consent. Expressing the anger I never could.
As a boy, I took solace away in nature where I wore clothes thought to be women’s. Separately. Genderwild the monster, to others. Genderwild, the skillful fighter against the trauma of split family.
I now approached this lashing thing, trying to contain it, and could not, and felt compassion. Another deader me sat against the wall, and I fought him too, and so did the beast that was flesh forged with suffering.
Called into existence by others’ projections of us, by horrific privilege, by past abuse.
We’ll only be done, together, in massive heat. The end approaches.
Falsified and half-formed. Frightened, fireful, forged in dream.
Centre of the Web 