Six days ago, a person who wanted to play a dictator on TV declared me not to exist.

The person several of my relatives and people who have said in the past they love me voted for this person, this wanna-be television dictator to rule over the country I live in.

On the day he was sworn in, missing the book by a mile, he stated the sex we are conceived as, will follow us to the grave.

The television dictator never did well in school, and that’s reflected in his rules.

How can only two sexes exist when some are born in between?

Sex isn’t gender, but he doesn’t know what that means.

For 58 years, I’ve learned about me.
For 58 years, I’ve learned what it means to be me.

I’m much more than the babies my body made when it wasn’t fully developed itself.

My body is still evolving. The glands that nursed my infants were scheduled to be removed until the wanna-be television dictator grabbed the pursestrings.

They are not wanted, not necessary, and pose a risk to my very life.

But the wanna-be television dictator doesn’t want to pay for surgeries to fix bodies like mine. Bodies with drooping, unwanted, benign tumors.

The surgery planned and prerequisited for over three years is waiting now for funding, previously assured as part of my health insurance plan.

Plan on the plans prerequisites perpetually postponed for perpetuity with this wanna-be television dictator in charge of this country.

And that’s on being trans nonbinary.

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First, they came for the…

Never mind
You didn’t care
It wasn’t your
Brother
Or your son
Out there.

Just your neighbor
And the gal
You called
“Friend-“

But the price
of eggs
is worth more
Than all
The ends.

First they
Came for
My friends.

Then they
Came for me-

But you aren’t
Even free.

How can you
Talk to me?

I was declared
Not a person
By a dictator
Five days ago.

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