by Taylor Kovach
Am I public property, a sideshow, medical malpractice, Frankenstein’s monster?
A mannequin to stare at, a token to show off inclusivity, a diversity hire?
A headache that’s unwarranted, a pronoun inconvenience, a tired trend?
A groomer, an epidemic to hide away from kids, a catalyst for banned books.
Am I a confused girl, a manipulated doe, a tragedy?
A sin, God’s shed tears, a stamp tattooed of disapproval?
A perceived threat to mankind, a contagion, a threat to the American dream?
A panic defense suspect, a hate crime waiting to happen,
The best of both worlds with my legs pulled apart?
Staring down my lifestyle like endless wrong life choices.
As if anyone would choose this.
Take a picture of someone as disposable as your camera,
It’ll probably last longer than I will.
***
Taylor Kovach is a transgender poet who lives in Riverview, Michigan. They hold a Psychology BA from Michigan State University. One can peruse their work forthcoming in The Globe Review, Lavender Review, Snowflake Magazine, Iamb Literary Magazine, Raising the Fifth, Wicked Gay Ways Journal, Blood Moon Rising Magazine, PULP Literary Magazine, and Aurtistic Zine. Self-taught in the medium of the poetic arts that spans more than a decade, this artist keeps their work far from close to the chest.
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