Vin
Vin (they/he) is a trans, disabled community organizer who makes many forms of art focusing on compassion toward self, others, and the planet. They can be found gardening, caring for their high-needs cats, and ranting on the internet about conflict skills when not holding a paintbrush, glue stick, or stylus.
This Body Is a Wild Horse
This body is a wild horse. It is not my own.
It used to run and roam,
but now bucks and kicks in place, in space and time.
Soon, it will be a mangled statue, frozen as it writhes,
its grimace and gnarled joints displayed
for all who refused to see
how grotesque it was when still it ran free.
And how they will gasp as they pass,
say it is a terrible thing,
better kept in shadows they tried so hard to cast.
Even as it lives, its eyes can only see the light of day
when others turn away.
Thrashing in the dark alone,
this beast that is not my own.
I am thrown about but never off. I want to stop.
But it screams louder than my pleas.
I cannot break free
or break this broken beast.
And soon it will break me.
This Body Was a Wild Horse
This body was a wild horse, now it is my home.
It used to run and roam,
but now it lays in place, in space and time.
It has become a brittle statue—
frozen, aching, tired—
demanding, tenderly, constant care from me,
encased in memory of the time it ran free.
Others will ask why I don’t hide it away,
as if I have a say.
But either way, I’ll assert it deserves to stay.
I tried too long to hide
and let others turn away,
leaving it unknown—
this beast that is my home.
I fought while it cried for me to yield,
demanded that I feel.
It just needed me to kneel.
I tried too long to break this beast
that never wanted to break me.
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