“Gunslingers” by Skyelyn Riggs-Davis
taking your place across from me. Our
eyes meet, hands hover over the big iron
on our hips.My sister, my identical twin. You make
me feel like an outlaw. How I’ve been on
the run since you noticed my smoking
gun. When I wrapped my chest and told
you I was trans, you acted like I killed
someone. You saw me in the desert dirt,
dying of thirst. Cracked lips forming
fractured words. I’d asked you to call
me they then, begging for scraps of
bread. You knew I was starving, but you
said it was no use. Your sister was
already dead, so I pulled myself up by
my bootstraps and vanished. While you
told stories at the saloon, how you were
abandoned. I never asked to be alone,
Ranger. But you left me no choice when
you treated me like I could be cattle
branded and broken like a horse. Tell me
who died and made you sheriff. How
bullets bleed from your tongue. You
self-proclaimed soldier in the name of
God, hiding your personal discomfort
behind a shining badge of honor. The way
you put my face up on every wanted
poster when the cost of the price on my
head would have solved our problem 10
times over my sister.When did your heart become a ghost town?
And tell me why does each time we meet
have to be a showdown? Do you not
remember? Summer spent in desert heat
dodging dust devils, chasing tumble
weeds, how we play cops and robbers. I
was Clyde and you were Bonnie. These days
they’re just ghost stories.Now that I’m back, man in black, you say
you don’t recognize me.So we stand
diametrically opposed. My best friend
turned foe. I reckon you’d hang me at
the gallows. But we both know a sheriff
needs an outlaw to let him play the
hero. You know,
I think this standoff was more about you
than it ever was about me. Yet you
pleaded. Why couldn’t you just follow
the law? Why couldn’t you be my twin
sister? Why couldn’t you be who you were
supposed to be? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
I’m not the twin sister you wanted, but
I’m the brother you need. And we always
taught the West was won by sticking by
your family. No matter how much each of
us are hurting, this time I’m not
leaving. You hear me? I said this town
was always big enough for the two of us.
I’m not dead yet. Aren’t you listening?
I love you. I love all of you. The good,
the bad, and the ugly. Please, I’m so
tired of screaming.But only the tumble weeds hear me now.
Taking your place across from me. Our
eyes meet, hands hover with a big iron
on our hips.Let’s just get this over with.
Bang.
I still love you.
Watch “Gunslingers” Performed by Skyelyn Riggs-Davis
Analysis of “Gunslingers” by Skyelyn Riggs-Davis
A Queer Western Reimagined Through Slam Poetry
“Gunslingers” transforms the mythology of the American West into an intimate family tragedy about identity, rejection, and survival. Using the language of outlaw stories, duels, sheriffs, ghost towns, and wanted posters, Skyelyn Riggs-Davis reframes the transgender experience through a cinematic Western lens.
The poem’s central conflict is not between strangers, but between siblings — specifically identical twins — which heightens the emotional tension throughout the piece. The speaker describes coming out as trans and being treated “like I killed someone,” immediately tying gender identity to exile and criminalization.
By casting himself as the outlaw and his sister as the sheriff, Riggs-Davis exposes how systems of morality, religion, and social conformity can fracture even the closest relationships.
Themes in “Gunslingers”
Transgender Identity and Family Rejection
At its core, “Gunslingers” is about the devastating emotional cost of conditional love. The speaker repeatedly attempts reconciliation, insisting:
“I’m not the twin sister you wanted, but I’m the brother you need.”
The poem captures the loneliness many transgender people experience when family members mourn an identity that was never authentic to begin with. The line:
“Your sister was already dead”
becomes both accusation and elegy.
Western Imagery as Emotional Metaphor
One of the poem’s greatest strengths is its sustained use of Western imagery. Riggs-Davis never abandons the metaphorical framework:
- sheriffs
- outlaws
- saloons
- ghost towns
- gallows
- wanted posters
- tumbleweeds
- showdowns
These symbols transform the emotional conflict into something mythic and cinematic. The West becomes a metaphor for survival, isolation, masculinity, and violence.
The repeated image of hands hovering over “big iron on our hips” evokes classic Western gunfighter standoffs, while referring to a classic Arizona poetry trope made popular by Marty Robbins‘ “Big Iron“, simultaneously symbolizing emotional self-defense between family members.
Love Surviving Violence
Despite the rage and heartbreak threaded throughout the poem, “Gunslingers” ultimately remains a love poem.
The final line:
“I still love you.”
lands with devastating emotional force because it arrives after metaphorical execution. Even after rejection, abandonment, and symbolic death, the speaker refuses to relinquish love.
That refusal becomes the poem’s deepest act of resistance.
Performance Style and Delivery
Skyelyn Riggs-Davis delivers “Gunslingers” with a theatrical intensity rooted in slam poetry traditions while maintaining the emotional intimacy of confessional writing. His pacing shifts between restrained vulnerability and explosive confrontation, mirroring the escalating tension of a Western duel.
The performance’s emotional realism is amplified by:
- cinematic pauses
- repeated visual motifs
- escalating repetition
- direct address
- vocal tonal shifts
The result feels less like recitation and more like witnessing a confrontation unfold in real time.
Why “Gunslingers” Resonates
“Gunslingers” resonates because it takes deeply personal pain and reframes it through universally recognizable mythology. Even audiences unfamiliar with transgender experiences can immediately understand the emotional language of:
- exile
- family betrayal
- hero narratives
- survival
- longing for reconciliation
The poem succeeds because it refuses simplicity. Neither sibling is rendered as a cartoon villain. Instead, Riggs-Davis presents a tragic portrait of people trapped inside inherited ideas of identity, morality, and family.
About Skyelyn Riggs-Davis
Skyelyn Riggs-Davis is an Arizona-based spoken word artist, slam poet, musician, and event producer known for emotionally charged performances exploring queer identity, resilience, and survival in the modern American Southwest.
Learn more about Skyelyn Riggs-Davis on AZPoetry.com.