Triumph XX:

Dharma I file my claws down, gouge out every scale

scratch off the skin that doesn’t want to shed;

I’ve pried the living gemstone from my head

By Shweta Narayan // Illustrated by Annada Menon defanged myself with braces, split my tail.
* TW // Homophobia, Abuse, Self-harm With fear’s barbed wire I’ve bound this fluid frame

to silence, stasis, passing. I confess

I’m not convinced that speaking out hurts less

(you serpent, monster, freak) than acting tame.

So this split tongue sounds foreign to my ear

I shuffle round on knives that pass for feet

and gasp, ill-made, for air to shape deceit:

I’m straight. I’m fine. I’m what they want to hear.

This pain I know. I guess at what they’d say

or do, and rip the scales out one more day.