SIGNS

FALSE FACES JOURNAL ENTRY

the son of god died at 34.

but i was just born

shooting myself up once a week to stay alive.

looking back i can see how trivial it all seemed.

wiping off makeup

shaving my head in a parking lot.

but years of appeasing cis men (or the whims of my eventual knight in shining armor)

kept me locked in the 30 yr performance of a lifetime.

i was lied to.

placed in a closet while adults in hushed tones kept me safe from everything but them.

now i am free.

born again in the fire of my rage.

ps. my dead name was ___ letters long.

hint: 404 not found