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.

