Whispers-in-Vogue

i grew up in a house with floors that slant, a porch that rots and an attic full of glass. i watched as my father insulated the walls, my arms getting wrapped up in itchy pink material that left tiny cuts across my skin. i grew up in a family that either cared too much or didn't care enough. my father never talked and my mother only accused but never apologized. i watched their affection fade and a fog of too- high expectations rise and consume me. i grew up scared and a coward. my nails would dig trenches in my arms and my stomach had a habit of rejecting what it was given. i got used to hiding my pale limbs in swea

This is what I cannot understand. There is an understanding that nothing is ever black and white. Good can be achieved through bad means, what's wrong can sometimes be right, and if you turn right for long enough, you eventually go left. Boys can be girls who fall in love with girls who sometimes think they are boys and the lines between everything end up irreversibly blurred. Or so I've always thought. But this is a line that cannot be blurred. This is the only remaining clear-cut line that separates black from white as perfectly as a color wheel. And that is the fact that everything is until it isn't. We are until we aren't. We breathe u