let me explain something to you:
you fuck with my people
and you won't know what hit you.
(what hit you will be a
genderfluid teenager who is
in regards to my body size and weight)
i am not someone you want to mess with.
i am not a threat to be taken lightly.
i can lift people twice the size of me,
i am not afraid to punch someone
and damn the consequences,
i am very good at being underestimated,
and i will not hesitate to knock you
down a few pegs if you start to get cocky.
so you know what?
to the people who caused the Make-Up Criminal's
anorexic easting disorder,
i hope that you count footsteps
like you made her count calories,
so that they haunt you even when
you can't stop, when they give you
headaches and then migraines
and slowly drive you insane with the
incessant track of numbers
following your footsteps.
to the people who made the Ice Queen
uncomprehending of what she was supposed to say,
i hope that words on a page
scramble before your eyes.
i hope that street signs and Ikea instructions
look like alphabet soup to you.
i hope that when you try to read
your wedding vows,
they are nothing but gibberish.
to the people who made the Circus Focus
(that's me, it was always me)
bitter and jaded,
loyal to the point where it wears her down,
depressed and full of BPD,
to everyone who made me this way-
i have not let you win.
i am stronger than you ever were.
i am not someone you want to fuck with.
but let me make this clearer,
because apparently it hasn't
quite sunken in yet:
you make the Redhead Hurricane cry?
i will give you reason enough to go
sobbing back to your childhood bedroom.
you make a relative injured?
i will give you enough fear to
last you long into the darkness.
you make one of my friends despair?
you will be so dead to the world that
"underground" will be considered "up".
so here's a little warning:
don't you dare touch my people.