My rib cage is now shaped like a bell
I would cry in pain, not knowing I could flatten my chest with anything other than ace bandages.
My phone goes unanswered
The other end of the line tends to call me “ma’am”
I taught myself how to alter clothing
Men’s pants don’t come this short
I have gotten multiple UTIs
Pain is better than being harassed in every public bathroom
I’m scared to ride my bike
In ninth grade I was followed by a group of men shouting “dyke”, “faggot”
An entire church prayed for my “release from the devil”
Before removing my unwilling soul from their midst
I am transgender. And you, reader, may not be. If so, I only ask that you listen. Understand Be better for those like me in the future. This story may not be yours to tell, But it is yours to remember.