There’s a woman in my mirror.
She’s been there all my life.
Staring back at me, in spite
Of what others may have seen.
She has suffered, like me. She is
Me after all, never have we
Not shared circumstances.
She is a “TERF”, a woman scorned
Who lacks empathy for the man
She sees in her space, whose
Presence threatens her life, preventing her
freedom of mobility,
To live and seek happiness. To feel
He is a threat to everything she
Longs to be. His presence
Dominates her. Screaming at
Him in rage, she takes the wooden brush
From the counter-top below.
Pulling back her arm, she weaponizes
It, hurling it at his grotesque
Face. The mirror shatters, leaving
Behind nothing but dysphoria.