Being yourself is terrifying.
And I don’t mean that
“But what if they don’t like me” stuff.
I’m talking about fear.

I’m talking about
being afraid
of visiting small towns,
cut off from the false sense of security
the city provides.

Avoiding using public restrooms
at all costs.
Buying myself time,
even to the point of infection.

Hiding my pain
when a mistake is made.
Staying silent,
fearing a reaction I can’t avoid.

Watching the broadcasts,
reading the news,
seeing my fate reflected
in summarized coroner’s reports.

Learning to detect a hate crime
before that awful word
is even heard.

“It’s a tr*nny!”
the strangers in my nightmares yell,
sealing my tomb with a single slur.

I awake to a reality all too real.
Anxiety consumes me.

I am transgender.

Always concealed,
always confined,
always cowed,
and never safe.