aq, what is so wrong with me? why don't you get it?

a growing collection of stagnating drafts that will sit rotting until the day i die. they will never be sent because the people i wrote these to don't deserve and would not care for the things i think but never say.

i feel bad 

i want my sister to look at me
and use the pronouns that make me feel safe
i want her to look at me and see the person i identify as,
i want to tell her because it's something i want to do

i want to tell her because there is something that i am
and that is an integral part of me
and she doesn't know it. 

but she makes jokes about gender that are hardly friendly
and moans and groans about how hard and weird singular they/them is to use
and she makes jokes about my sexuality,
all the while somehow without acknowledging how important it is to me

my sister,
she makes me feel small and erasable and invalid.

she does not make me feel safe.

and she makes me feel like if i ever told her,
my identity would be met with ridicule and unkindness. 

she makes me feel bad,
and i know i'm useless and a burden and difficult,
the oft-repeated difficult,

but.

i'm only human and i make a lot of mistakes.

i don't want to hurt so much anymore.

is there something wrong with me, [cc]?

i.

there must be, mustn't there.

The End

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