.

days keep going on

my words do not matter. My voice will never be heard.

For my life is not worth a measurable amount

and I’m sick of watching the world this way.

I am not just being “PC” when I speak up when someone talks about a physical part of their body that millions are ashamed of. I’m not okay with being shut out of the talk regarding transgender lives and being pushed out of it because my voice doesn’t matter compared to that of my brother. I’m not okay with anything at all.

is my life not worth it? will I ever be heard.

all the things I fought for for years and my life that Skylar was able to get people to listen in one. mother and father of all people after all these years doing so much work in less than a month from Skylar hitting 00:00 as the stars fell to his side breathlessly ending his life instead of mine first as it should be for older brother’s.

I’m not just a brother. I’m just Avi. I’m just Avi. Why can’t anyone see that or hear that. Am I not worth hearing, too? I want to wear cute bows and ribbons too. I’m [expletive] sick of following gender normative rules in society and trying to fit within someone’s defined standards of what it means to be trans and to be a guy.

Are my actions so futile and meaningless that those years don’t matter?

why am i trans.

it’s beautiful life is beautiful trans lives are beautiful all except mine

for my life is ugly and quite boring in that matter.

Even if my words begin to matter it’ll only be seen as me following in Skylar’s footsteps. I dragged Skylar to clubs and meetings. I was the one asking him why xe didn’t care about how we were both seen in a white dominated club as queer Koreans. I was the one asking him why xe thought he was equal to everyone else in a society that has so many multifaceted levels of privilege.

whydomywordsnotmatter.whydoallofmyexperiencesnotmatter.

my experiences did not matter to Skylar. I don’t have any part of who Skylar was after I left. I’ll change my number next week when I should have in the 496 days I left. I waited for Skylar to talk to me.

he didn’t want to talk to me. xe told the entire world, “I love you,” in the 468 days I was not there except me. without any closure beyond taking my rabbit bag with the photos of faces he found familiar and loved leaving on top of his drawer three photos of my childhood, a card for LGBTQ movies, and a piece of lint roller tape with a rainbow ribbon.

I’m the only one without words left

i’m falling

so

damn

fast

i

don’t

know

when

it’ll

ever

end

for I’ve felt that my own life meant nothing in a small white house with a red shingled roof as i ran out the doors tasting freedom for the first time as the screams of never come back rang down the driveway in a small white room trapped with no way out with my screams not being heard by the world as i sobbed until they said we’d both die if i screamed again in white halls with bruises and cuts on my neck and body that no one would do anything about in white rooms with students in rows and columns quietly scribbling away rapidly with pencils in hands as the time ticked by as i sat in my seat with my ballpoint pen doodling on math tests wishing i was not failing my favourite class with a teacher who would never know how much math and numbers meant to me in a small white office over a year later as my doctor looks at me with what looks like disapproval as he gets the orders to see what my blood results will come to in a small white envelope freeing me of my fears as all results come to negative in a small corner wondering that if i am truly free why do i not feel it

let me disappear a little.

let me hide from the world a little.

let me ignore I’m a queer and trans Korean.

let me lie down with the stars by my side.

let me remember someone who’s just Avi

and no one else but Avi.

Let me lie a little to myself. That life is beautiful. That my life is also beautiful. That my voice matters. That I have been heard my entire life. That my life matters. That I am not unwanted. That I won’t hurt people.

it does not

and it hurts.

Let me face the last hour and 7 minutes of Monday. Then Tuesday. Let me face Tuesday remembering it’s 30 days from when I was applying to a school and signing up for the ACT not caring for anything else but my frustration at Common App. Let me drop my friend from Denmark off as she leaves heart broken herself from a person whose singing she’ll forever adore. Let me face Wednesday as it will be 30 days from when Skylar would no longer turn anything but 16 years and 10 months of age. Thursday can’t come fast enough. Then I’ll keep on going somehow.

Let me hide because face it my life does not matter.

Life is beautiful.

I’ll be okay.

I’m okay.

I just wish I had hot apple cider for tonight to face tomorrow warmly.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.