Metamorphosis

By Invictus

How do you murder a butterfly in its metamorphosis?  

Squash the egg?

Splatter the caterpillar’s blood on the ground?

Crack the cocoon open?

Rip the wings off of a butterfly?

Monstrosity will never run out of ways!

This is not fiction. There are unborn babies whose future parents have unapologetically declared on Twitter they’d kill their children at the first sign of gay buoyancy.

Two years ago, Zachary Dutro, age 4, was murdered by his own mother believing he was queer. 

In this picture, his intestines hadn’t been torn open yet.

And it would be months before liquid leaked out from his damaged bowels.

A few months ago, Billy Lucas, age 15, was bullied to death.

Frenetic in his attempt to escape from his tormentors, he hanged himself in their barn.

Two years ago, Elvin Gonzalvo, age 21, was led by his father’s homophobic words to believe he was better off dead, so his body was found dangling in that dungeon of a home.

I have survived this holocaust, but only because of luck.

I am lucky my parents are human beings, not monsters.

I am lucky the people in my community were religious enough to know that homosexuality is a sin but so is violence, so they would just leave me alone… unscathed.

I am lucky my bullies were not creative enough in the art of torture.

I am now 26, flipping the brightest wings you have ever seen.

With much bravado, I shout to the world,

If the whole world is praying for straight children, give me every gay child!

I will unclip their tingling wings for everyone to behold.

They will call me the goddess of butterflies, keeper of beautiful souls with multi-colored bloods.

I aim to save those bloods from splattering on pavements and classroom walls.

I will teach them how to walk on rainbows (with stilettos) and avoid bloody pathways constructed by hands that intend to rip tender hearts with such godlessness!

But reality gets the best of me.

I look at my nephews and nieces and try to guess who among them will soon be convicted of the crime of loving in a different form.

I hope none, to be honest.

Because I wonder… if the world soon cuts his closet open, will he bleed?

I pray for his immediate metamorphosis, for my wings are never wide enough to cover atrocities like this.

Be that as it may, Kid, when you finally decide to come out of the closet, I’ll hug you tight.

But listen to me carefully.

Beware of hands that will break you open.

Do not allow those hands to incise your cocoon to make a spectacle of a murdered spirit out of you.

Kid, enter this world with an unbreakable spirit,

for there are men out there who will try to rip your wings off and replace them with phantom limbs.

Know your laws, be a good son, or daughter, be a good citizen, be a good student.

for in this society, queer is a fucking magnifier of flaws, the instigator of evil, the origin of debauchery.

I’ve dreamed of a world where crimes are attributed to people’s loss of humanity and not to their sexual orientation.

This is for anyone bludgeoned to normalcy in order to fit conventional gender roles,

Learn how to be camouflage in order to survive!

But learn how to lose that dead skin in due time in order to live.

Do not let pretension stick to your flesh for good.

Go ahead, Boy! Kiss that girl with pretty curls for what it’s worth.

But never turn down that boy in the baseball field, the one that always makes your heart leap when he goes for a homerun.

Boy, you have always been running towards home!

Boy, they say the home is where the heart is!

Boy, you are permitted to love that way after being imprisoned by your own fears for so long.

Dear kindred spirit, you are a good thing.

There may be prison cells in your heart, but learn how to bleed beautiful to let yourself slip through metal bars and finally shout to the world that you are still here despite everything!