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".
