Frisked Away

I was fifteen when I realized I was guilty.
Not for stealing;
Not for lying;
Just for feeling like a boy,
In the body of a girl.

I wanted to say it out loud.
I wanted to put it out there for all of Tehran to know.
That’s when I saw them outside the window.
Big men in black;
Carrying blades as sharp as their hate;
For people like me.

Ma always said I was unique, different.
But what if it wasn’t the good kind of difference?
What if I was a monster all along?
A wolf in a sheep’s clothing;
A demon to be feared.
Loathed.

But don’t I bleed red too?
Don’t we breathe the same air?
Then why must my freedom be frisked away; Like a toy too dangerous for play?

Oh, what in the world is gonna make you listen? What must I do to make you understand?
I didn’t choose any of it,
Never did.

And yet here I am, a living example
Of what must never have come to be.
My voice helplessly silenced like the gentle snow that falls On a dark December night.