Lynne Jones – March 2025

The margins of hell

I’m old and I have no more fucks to give 
About people’s opinions of me and the life I live 
And in this menopausal walk into superpower 
I’ll advocate where once I cowered 
And amplify the marginalised voices  
of those who have more limited choices. 

Cos when owning your gender identity and expression, 
It’s not surprising that there’s tension, 
When legal system in countries too numerous to mention. 
Can rape you, kill you and keep you in detention. 

Will you blow a very short fuse  
Or hide away afraid you’ll bruise? 
Adopt the boiled frog approach and leave clues 
Or identify a celebrity as your muse? 
This assumes you have the power to choose 
And that depends on what you stand to lose. 

Though enough years have passed, I’ve not forgot. 
That I too have lost a lot 
My social standing, reputation and name 
Ostracised by heteronormative shame 
A husband and home lost to divorce 
An estranged child which is worse. 

And I’ve got so much privilege I would be lame  
To suggest your experience was in anyway the same 
But What good could come from my heart break pain? 
What’s positive that still remains? 

My hearts ripped out, I’m an empty shell 
I’ll use the space to amplify stories you can’t tell. 
Stories from the margins of hell.