1.Time is man-made
2. Gender is a social construct
3. You paid fifty dollars for glorified rubber and fabric
4. Shut up

my hands are shaking
not with anxiety
i tell myself sternly
but with the caffeine
and too sweet bagel i had
for lunch
this is a sugar rush
or it might be the cold
that is turning my toes pink
setting my teeth chattering
and making my chest tight
maybe it is something else
but i don’t want it to be
please just let it be the cold
and not some ridiculous fear
of being alone

i am just another echo
against the walls of
this house

i smell like a family
there is drool on my shoulder
blending into the fabric
of my flannel
where i held my friend’s baby
and i kissed her head and
her little face
and told her i loved her
and she giggled
and burbled back at me
and soaked my shirt in drool

there is dirt and grit
clinging to my skin
and my hair
where i held my friend close
after so many months of
radio silence on both our parts
and told him i loved him
and i smell like him
a lingering scent of
earth and travel
because for a nomad
the road is their home
but now he is so domestic
and underneath his usual smells
he smells like soap and clean clothes
and while this is strange
i am happy for him

i press myself into my friends
an extended family
ever expanding
i try to take in as much
of their scents as i can
because i naively hope that
i can drown out the smell
of fear and sleepless nights
and cold sweats that cling to me
i do not want to smell like my nightmares

i let them permeate my skin
and they stay with me
even if they are miles
and years away
i keep little parts of them
and they keep me going
they keep me whole

because family doesn’t
end with blood
but it doesn’t start there
either

0.
my fears come in fours
or to be exact
there are four of them
a nice even number
but i cannot overcome these ones
and there are certainly more
where they have come from
but these are the ones
that i live by
or the ones that live by me
either way
they are the controlling factors
that make up my psyche

1.
i am afraid of the dark
and no
i am not kidding
people usually don’t believe me
when i tell them this
because i surround myself with
dark things and i guess
i seem like a dark person
and the argument
that when i close my eyes it
will be dark anyway
does nothing to comfort this
it just makes me feel more ridiculous
an eighteen year old with a nightlight

2.
storms
mother ******* storms
even a little bit of rain
can send me scurrying
to my room to hide under
a pile of blankets
as if this can protect me from
the elements
and driving in it is even worse
i white-knuckle my way through
the miles and the hours
feeling the wind
and pouring rain
hail snow sleet thunder
and lightning
it sends waves of fear to my bones
and i grit my teeth so hard
i fear my teeth will crack
and splinter
like the trees and fences and power lines

3.
it is not dying that scares me
i am not afraid of death
i embrace it
i will be the curator
of my own destruction
but it is dying alone
that scares me the most
and yes
i know that even if i were to die
with other people
i would still die by myself
because my light snuffing out
will not be like anyone else’s
i know this
and that does not scare me
what scares me is being alone
when i die
i don’t want to die
by bottle or pill or knife
with my only company being
my self-destruction
the dark passenger will not escort me
to the other side
but i wouldn’t mind dying
holding your hand

4.
i am afraid of my mother
but this is not something that i can
just come out and say forthright
it has to be treated casually
just slipped into conversation
taking the words from
what is your favorite kind of cake to
and i am afraid of my mother
but anyway
what is your favorite flavor of frosting
and the key is to say this quickly
let the sentence blur together
let the thickness of the tongue
slur the vowels into one long string
no spaces are needed with this
confession
because no matter how this is said
this little confession
an admittance of what is wrong
of what haunts my sleep
and my day time
and all my time
people will still look at me like
i am this little broken thing
but no
i am not broken
i will not let her break me
but this fear
it will not go away
and i am ashamed of it

I've got some of these, too!

Here are my two favorites: It's okay if you change your mind.
It's okay if SHE wants to come back.

I am going to take this opportunity to introduce myself to you guys again. Hi. My name is Boaz Priestly Stout. But I mainly go by Priestly. I am a transgender male. My pronouns are he/him. And, I have felt this way since I was 7, so I can assure you I will not "change my mind."

Because, even saying that implies that being transgender is a choice. Well, news flash: IT'S NOT! I mean, do any of you honestly believe that I would choose this for myself? The constant dysphoria, not being able to pass as male, the misgendering and dead-naming, and general transphobia are hell. I would not wish this on my worst enemy. This is not a choice. It is who I am. And, I have fully embraced it, because, it is better than the alternative of living life with this big secret that eventually destroys me. I am not going to be a statistic. I will not be one. I will not.

I am a boy. My name is Priestly. I am a boy. I AM.

Either way
I don't care
because I write for
myself only
and alone
keeps the demons at bay

So
you want the good old days back right
when it was only a few cents to
see a movie at the theater
and you could take your girl out
for a night on the town
for less than twenty dollars
and even having that much money
made you feel rich?

Fine
I can understand that
but that’s not what you mean
when you say that
like a parrot
it’s the same thing over and over again
make America great again
let America be America again
make this great fifty state
existence of ours
meet your impossible standards again

But
if you really want to make America “great”
and restore this land to it’s original beauty
then we need to clear out
give the land back to
the Native and Indigenous peoples
that were killed off by the white man and
their small pox and guns
and their constant need to expand

This
land is soaked in the blood
of many wars fought
but most of it is not white man’s blood

No
it is the blood of people
who just wanted to live
and raise their children
and meet their grandchildren
and keep the world beautiful

But
the white man just couldn’t stand for that
now could they?
especially if they weren’t in charge of it all
so the bodies fell
and then the trees
the animals and native plants
all shriveled and died under
their cruel hands

And
when that land would yield
no more grasses or plants
they moved on
and on and on
riding horses that were not theirs
bringing death and plague
and sadness
a sadness so profound
that even the earth herself
wept

So
you say you want
America to be America again
that you want to make our country
great again
but all you can think about is
war and genocide and
****** and death and pain

This
is not for the good of all
or even the few
it is for the good of the one
it is for the white man
and his money
and his towers
and the countless empty buildings
springing up
and choking what little life is left
out of the earth and the land
but the building’s will stay empty
because the rent is too high
and if you do not have money
or power
well then
your voice is not heard

And
you continue preaching
about how bigger walls
and gun towers
will keep everybody else out
but all I see when I look at you
is a spoiled rotten little brat
taking his sandbox toys home with him
so no other children can play with them
just because their clothes
are not as nice as yours
and their faces and hair
are not as scrubbed clean

But
the pigment has been leached
from your heart
and all that is left
is a shriveled up *****
it is not doing its job
because if you really did have a heart
you would understand that not everyone
shares your disillusioned vision
of a “greater”
a “reborn”
America

(And
I have met some pretty
evil men
I have seen them on TV
with their greasy selves
and empty promises
but you
well
you’re the ******* Antichrist)