FLINTA* Voices: pathetic, pathetic & i stand alone by em dash

FLINTA* Voices create space to speak without restriction, without dilution, and without apology. We opened our platform to FLINTA* writers and creators who confront and redefine gendered realities, who understand empowerment not as a trend, but as necessity, and who expose patriarchy not as abstraction, but as lived experience.

this piece has first appeared in a queer-based magazine FLORETS (berlin, autumn 2024)

pathetic, pathetic

pathetic, pathetic,

to hide the genetic

to beg for approval from gods

a vigorous leader

achiever and feeder

unpaved and unwalkable roads

the ring finger’s tingling

i find myself singing

the odes to the miracle men

i don’t own my body

it’s all for the party

who don’t really know who i am

the dailies and monthlies

the daisies and hamlets

i’m landing because i’m upset

and gently and lovely

and wryly and roughly

explaining myself to myself

refuse to the torture

it’s weaker than virtue

regards to the part of the scene

not anyone’s daughter

untamed and unfortuned

regaining the strength to be seen

this piece has first appeared in a queer-based magazine FLORETS (berlin, autumn 2024)

i stand alone, and then i stand corrected

i stand alone, and then i stand corrected

i’ve strolled past empty stalls

i’ve scrolled past empty faces

with all the men not worth my time at all

i just wanted some warmth

i just wanted a pat on a shoulder

a hug

and I asked

and they did

and they tore me apart

i tamed myself until I could

no longer recognize my own desire

i was on fire

i was uninspired

they only want a part and never an entirety of human

i would call it lust for youth

they want a catsuit

they want you weak and pliable

and only strong enough to be accepted in the high society

god knows i didn’t even try

i’d say i’d rather die

but many truly died

one way or another

on the bleak boulevards

the truth is, i’ve never truly had a lover

i’m supposed to be in your arms

i’m supposed to be in milano

or somewhere in northern italy. i remember the streets,

the endless strings of alleys, the sound of piano

but i play piano

and after all these tears unshed and shed

i come back to the person who’s never misled

me. and I’m hugging myself in my room

and i’m gently inquiring,

my darling,

you cried about whom?

and i’m smiling

i’m smiling

About the Author

em dash (she/her) is a berlin-based, russian-born poet, artist, and a journalist in exile. her poetry appeared in florets magazine (berlin, 2024), mind over matter (london, 2024), and kein automat (berlin, 2025). She’s an active member of berlin spoken word, the city’s largest spoken poetry community and event.

she writes poetry to work through heartbreak, trauma, class, and displacement, as well as to make sense of the world and connect to others.

@iemdash

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