She Didn't Care At All
how the person who has killed me chose not to care
I was begging for someone to save my life. I was begging and begging and begging. They were the adult person I cared for the very most.
They don’t care at all.
They’d let me suffer in agony for years rather than having the spine to speak. They were aware I was losing my ability to move through the world as an effective human because of the anxiety and grief their refusal to ever speak to me again had been causing me—making me want to die every day, crying alone every night—and they were the one person my heart loved the most.
Just like everyone. They are a cis bigot. The only reason I can gather that this has gone on until I’m broken and done, is that they are offended I loved them and thought it some right to get a goodbye hug when they deigned themself done speaking to me forever, and that it’s beyond insulting because I’m a trans woman who they see as some entitled man.
They refused to be a human being and talk to me for preventing my death.
Nothing worse has ever been done.
My daughter will know the name of this evil woman who shall burn in hell for eternity for taking this mother from her daughter. Being her mom was the only dream I ever had, and my heart just couldn’t take being stripped bare and beaten down by somebody who had allowed me such precious space to be myself for the first time in my life.
This Mary. The whore. The devil. She took me by body. She used me sexually. She lied about wanting a friendship with me. She’d let me believe it was going to be for so long. She told such lies. Then gutted me like a fish and threw me into the trash when she was done getting what she wanted—one good pounding from a real penis.
