Caged - a monologue for transgender kids

Caged

To every suicidal trans kid, I am here with you. We live in a world not made for us, where we're abused by lies spat from hateful lips, a torrent of fury at a flaw in our making, something that we cannot control. We don't know what it is we did wrong. We're locked in closets, closets like cages, strong iron bars holding us in a dark, morbid place, a place reeking of death and despair. One in three trans genders will attempt suicide by the age of twenty, because they cannot bear to live in a body too small, too tight, for their being, a body bruised by bullying tongues, sharp, and cold, and cruel. For some, we are a flaw in humanity, we are glitches, errors, mistakes, not meant to exist in this hating world. But we don't have to be forever. Here we stand, waiting for that one moment when the torrent of anger, and horror, and hate, will finally end, and we may break free of this iron cage, finally able to spread our wings and emerge from our cocoons, to fly, and spin, and soar above the heads of those so dull and evil, to claim the sky as ours. But how long until someone swats us away, forcing us back into that cage, back into the darkness and despair? How long until we are broken down again, drowning in a pool of our own tears, screaming and crying on our knees, rocking back and forth to the rhythm of our shaking lungs? Maybe we'll never escape, we'll be left to rot, our constricting bodies decaying on the cold stone ground, leaving nothing but a sliver of skin on hollow bones, our hearts shattered into nothing but shards of freezing ice, melted only by the last tiny flame alight in our eyes, before that too is blown out like a candle. We are not made for this world. Or maybe, this world is not ready for our divine existence. Listen to the soft beating of your heart against your chest, and let it remind you that although it has been torturous, seemingly pointless for so long, you are still standing, still breathing, still living. Believe, like me, that one day this world will be a better one, one day we may walk among others as equals. Wait with me, for this magical day to finally arrive, for the time we may finally step out of the shadows and breathe in the air of the outer world, feel the glorious sun on our backs and stand strong, beautiful even in bodies not made for us, confident even when shaking with fear, strong even when we can no longer keep our limbs from crashing to the ground. We will destroy our razors and replace them with rose petals, so a new shade of red will appear on our wrists. We will prove that it's not a phase, we're not confused, we're not a flaw, we're not freaks, we will prove that we are perfect. Let every hateful word spat from every evil tongue prove to ourselves that we are better than most, for we know better than to say such things that would drive a person to their coffin. To ever suicidal trans kid, you are amazing, and beautiful, and perfect, and I will always be here with you.