S. Liam Veit

yep still trans




After the sixth time being called ma’am I feel

like maybe I’ll inwardly collapse

I wrestle with a perceived satisfaction

shake my head, and the engine turns over.




I feel fearful that this is the time in the men’s

bathroom that I’ll be chased out by bushy brows

My heart is a pebble rustling in a tin can

I pass a twelve year old on my way out.




My binder is way too tight and I don’t even

really have tits, actually I never have

Holding my breath has become third nature

my chest is flat, yet I’m still tired.




“She – I mean he-”, at least you have the

decency to look a little guilty

Probably, definitely not as much as I do

maybe next time I’ll say sorry for existing.




The pharmacy is out of 18 gauge needles

and besides my doctor told me no

I buy some at a different Walgreen’s

they inject me the following Sunday.




My mother feels triumphant that her sister

finally stopped using my dead name

I don’t have the heart to tell her that

they are all wrong and always will be.


S. Liam Veit is a nonbinary poet.

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