Spaces

as a first-generation, latinx, non-binary, queer, raging feminist, i’ve learned to invade all the spaces i’ve been told to stay out of.

my ancestors, both of descent and culture, did not stain the walls of this country with their pomegranate-shaded blood for me to let their progression fade away in the rubble. i am the product of bulletproof vessels of grace who have endured the suffering of hatred and persecution by the hands of the multitude. i am the reason they’d rather singlehandedly watch others choke at their hand and steal

their culture than feel threatened by their

successes. to this day, my body, my shrine that Photo by: Afşar Arda

should only be on display to those worthy enough of witnessing its glory, is seen as a battleground for their leisure and my being as a target for them to practice their kills. i can only hope that my words simmer and fester in their hearts and begin to suffocate them from the inside out. may the scriptures that they use to justify their wrongdoings turn to dust, as they themselves will soon be in the name of whichever “l-rd” they praise.

for far too long, i’ve silently carried the wounds of the past, with nothing but the distant cheers falling from elysian to push me forward. it’s time i break the cycle of repression that has left so many destitute and acknowledge that by doing so, the world will conspire in my favor.

may every person with abhorrent words against me choke on their incoherence and go blind. may every step from here on out be bursting at the seams with love and clarity.

i’ll be damned if i get shot down in the crossfire or ever surrender to the malice voices. i am proud of my roots, to death.

xo,

saffron ezekiel sofiane

Photo by:Fanny Olivia Brito-Cruz