i cannot say what i would like to do to you.
if i put it into words,
utter it aloud,
even under cover of white noise and gun shots,
guitar solos and revving engines,
cheering crowds and erupting shells,
there is always someone listening.
so for now, i must remain outwardly grateful
for what little you have given,
and must never mention
all you have taken.
we peck at scraps, beg for crumbs,
with smiles on our faces.
oh, thank you, we say
for the platitudes. for the slogans.
oh, thank you, we say
for your lethality. for your protection.
oh, thank you, we say
when morsels from the bread we’ve made for you
find their way to our tongues,
juice from the fruits of our labor finally trickling down
to our bellies. it is not enough
to fill the gaping pit you have left in us,
but we must praise you for allowing us to eat.
(moldy offerings)
to breathe.
(the air poisoned)
to dance.
(our ballroom a burial ground)
to sing.
(your fingers down our throats)
to live.
where would we be, we wretched beasts,
without you?
when i say i love you, i mean it.
not because i want to,
but because i must.
there is always someone listening.
i cannot say what i would like to do to you.

Bio: Utah Miller is a transgender songwriter and poet from Baltimore.

Artwork by Utah Miller “I Need You To Feel How I Do”