Becoming a man seems to be

soft thin chin hair just darker than peach fuzz

changing my voice when it gets too high and

again when my throat’s too sore,

picking acne scabs into scars, bleeding

on my fingers, and a nightly routine

of gel on hand on thigh. It seems

at this point like quitting the gym when

I most need self defense because I’m afraid

of an elbow that connects too hard with my ribs

changing gym clothes with men born men

and the parking lot after class, after dark

after a hundred chances to see through my

facade of manhood, carefully built and gently held.

It seems a lot like carrying the perseverance from class

into each time the elbow too hard is just a metaphor

and the pain in my chest is a “she”

or “her” thrown my way from loose lips, no matter

how many changes my body and I make.


Image Credit:Ron Frazier
Alex Everette is a trans writer working his way through an English degree at Bridgewater State University. He’s usually to be found reading or writing with some coffee and his pets, though he does take breaks to do tarot readings and play chess. You can find some of his work online at RoguePoetry Review and in his self-published Kindle books.


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