Leaving school one day and my fleshy clenched fists
Turn into prepared pistons
I hear the words fag and then faggot again.
It wasn't directed at me, but this is what has made
My hands tense again and uncontrolled.
I cross the road and everything quiets down,
Then I hear a clicking behind me
So I stay clenched and cautious.
I discover it was just that pretty girl in my new class, way behind me.
I try calm again,
Put earphones in my ears,
Stop repeating the slurs coming from my peers,
Think they just don't know.
Open the door to home and let go.
Until I hear the wrong name,
Out of another's mouth it has come to greet me, hit me.
Maybe they just don't know either?
Or maybe neither care at all
That I am a man
And that it should be OK for queers to let their gaurd fall
And not feel so much like gall
YOU ARE READING
wrong names
Poetrya short poem about hearing a slur and then being called he wrong name as a trans person. this happens to me a lot
