As I picture myself in the future
Through years of HRT
Small glimmers of excitement
Reflect off the walls of my heart
I rarely feel excitement these days
So this instance is important
I picture ****** hair and muscles
A deepened voice ands flat chest
The physical changes excite me
It's the social ones that scare me
I cannot imagine having male privilege
I cannot imagine not feeling objectified
I cannot imagine being read as a man
I was raised in a position of oppression
I am constantly stared at and made into
Nothing more than the prospect of my genitals
And yet,
One day,
It will no longer be that way
I'll just look like a basic white boy
And they'll have no idea
Except that I will not stay silent
I will not hide in the shadows
I am transmasculine and nonbinary
And I refuse to remain invisible

You shake your head
as if the truth will fall right out of your ears the same way it entered
because you don't want to believe it.
You're so caught up in your own 'opinion' that you can't even open your mind up to the possibility you might be wrong.
You are given facts, statistics, news stories, yet you are unable to listen to reason.

While the straight white male ahead of me shakes his head at the possibility of being privileged,
A mother mourns over the loss of her son, a black man shot by a cop for no reason other than fear of his skin color,
another woman is silenced by her ****** through sharp threats in a dark closet,
my own mind flips back to when my aunt was disowned by most of her family for loving a woman.

Yet you, who can drive past a cop on the highway without breaking  a sweat,
can walk down the street at night alone without breaking a sweat,
can show your parents your lover without breaking a sweat,
think that you aren't any more lucky than the other people I listed prior.
Oh, if you only knew how to open your mind, just slightly, instead of shake the truth out.
Lying to yourself only makes it worse when you realize the truth.

The moat where we keep watery fowl
afloat feeding them cracked corn
scattered from our parapets.
Repaired the dry rot in the gate, got the
drawbridge working, again…it rusts.
There is dust, makes us sneeze.
Stumble over stones, look at masons
askance.  Threaten grain withholding
(hint:  barley) unless they
make ‘em flush.
How fun to keep
the keep
shiny.

To be buried due to old age
Is a dream I take for granted
Allow children time to assuage
Not to join blanketed by the planet

Age, a privilege not given to all
Genocide before nightfall
Malnutrition at the mess hall
Drugs calling souls to awol
Avarice causes many to fall
From buildings so so tall
methanol,
                cannon *****,
                                        alcohol
Death dealers always on the call

But to be buried due to old age
Is a dream I take for granite
tonight
and tomorrow
and tomorrow and tomorrow

I know
what it's like to win
at life
at family at
money at SMARTS and
it didn't feel
I didn't feel--

better to fail and
feel the same and
know there's a
chance
I couldwouldshould be happier in
a better
scenario

when asked to introduce myself,
the response is protocol:
my name, my age, or where i'm from,
friends and family know it all.

when asked to talk about myself,
some things don't come to mind.
sure, you'll know my favorite foods,
but i'll leave my country behind.

i have friends from around the world,
who take pride in their homeland.
but one thing you won't hear me say-
"i'm proud to be american".

what comes to mind when one hears "america"?
mcdonald's and walmart and guns?
what about slavery, racism, genocide?
i guess that's how history runs.

i'm lucky to have my freedoms,
i'm lucky to have my rights.
but with this "american privilage",
set the stage for continual fights.

we fight against one another,
which breaks down our unity.
as americans, it is our job to think:
"what does 'american' mean to me?".