gender dysphoria

he doesn’t understand

why he has to raise his hand

when the teacher asks

if allison is in class

he wonders if it’s his hair

if it’s because of what he wears

he looks in the mirror and stares

because he’s confused on why he sees allison in there

long lashes and full lips

soft skin and feminine hips

those breasts aren’t pecs

and every dance he’s ever attended, he had to wear a dress

he can’t look away now

no, he’s struggling not to cry

how can he fix this, he wants to know how.

how can he make allison finally die

or is it maybe- yes it must be

she was already dead and this is a haunting

she needs to be put to rest, they need their peace at last

so maybe one day, he doesn’t dread class

how do you throw a goodbye party to someone you’ve never known

how do you talk to people as yourself after years of being on hold

how do you face the mirror in the morning, when it’s not the mirror that breaks– but your heart and soul?

how do you live when you can’t breathe on your own?

he decided to retrace his steps

so he found his first pair of shoes

they’re shiny white with a bow, smell like regrets

but they look brand new

he skips ahead to see worn in sneakers

he recalls being thirteen, staring at his feminine features

he wondered how he’d look if he had shorter hair

or how he’d look if someone would notice or care

he used a razor to shave off the small amount of peach fuzz on his lip

not to make it disappear, but in hopes it’d grow back thicker

imagine his embarrassment when his fingers slipped

and a cut above a frown made his sister snicker

one day you’ll wake up with an answer to how you feel

embrace what you didn’t want to admit at a time

as a child, he watched wrestling and wondered what it was like to be on football field

but he dressed as a dolly, and only lived to die


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