I am not Orlando

I’m a lot of things survivor

one bad turna luck from hungry

I’m sick and low class and as queer

as it comes shocked and I’m grieving

but I am not Orlando

colonization did not destroy my homeland

demonize my heart

leave me lookin for sanctuary

on a dazzling dance floor of family rhythms and tongues

leave my open joy a target

and yeah,  

I started hitting the bars at 15

twirling under lights or tucked up in back corner darkness

riding out something horrible in the humid n heaving

safety of the club

but whiteness took me takes me home safer than most

handed me the power of citizenship at birth

hell, even in the welfare line I’ve got “potential”

and my fellow white trans and queer folk

while we mire in rainbow slick pools of grief and privilege

let’s remember this

white supremacy is designed to strip us of depth and meaning

leave us empty save for that unspilled lavender blood

eager for narratives that simulate connection

since privilege only disconnects

whiteness always harvests trauma

serves it up with heightened security

rainbow cops

gay friendly prison TV shows

and how quickly all the queer and trans black and brown ghosts

are woven seamlessly into grant deadlines and no fly lists

right along side our most tender truest bleeding hearts

and I’m a lotta things,

the colonizers daughter,

a sick and useless casualty of capitalism,

a bottom feeder

and I know death and I know loss

but whiteness gets me through it safer than most

less a target and not a ghost

so my fellow white queers

lets not harvest lets not honeymoon

and call it equality

lets not settle down on top of black, brown n indigenous lives and consume

lets not whitewash this trauma and hand it to profit

lets not whitewash 500 years of resistance

lets not call the cops

let’s check our legacies

shift our resistance to deep foundational change

let’s call each other over

        call each other in

cuz while we are a lot of things all tender,

fucked up and beautiful

we are not Orlando