Stealth

by Jaimeson Oakley

‍

Whoa, and my woes don’t treat me right

a girl in demise /a man not made yet

a quick sigh /a hush like

my mom wasn’t ready

yet /father, where art thou /father

still hiding in the closet

‍

Where do I begin /an ode

to the silhouette misinterpreted

one more reason to stop

the vehicle

            let me show you

why I’m not special

bearded and broad shouldered

silent in words coded

once a lesbian /twice gay

a boy ignorant of man’s

indiscretion /my problem lies

in lack of vulnerability /my remedy

isn’t in coming clean

            let me show you what I mean

pulling the flesh from bone

inspecting the body from the soul

like expecting the world to go cold

and freeze over.

‍

There are no t-shirts for this.

            How much transness equals transience?

How much should I toss my Witcher

like my existence is proof of wickedness

a shiny deception ‘cause my nails

aren’t painted at the moment

and my eyebrows ain’t got those nicks in them

like they do when I feel like being seen

bearded and broad-shouldered is just the tip of me

I cry my momma’s tears and carry my

grandma’s hands on these wrists. I don’t pretend

to know the consequence of my consciousness

that there is no way to identify

    one way

        or the other

            just a blended mess of what is

what I am is cross-referenced between safety

            and misguided bliss.

‍

‍

‍

Author Bio

Jaimeson Oakley is a Queer/Trans poet originally from Portsmouth, OH. He currently resides in Kent, OH as a NEOMFA poetry student. His work has been previously published in "The Closed Eye Open" and "The Showbear Family Circus".