dear mustache,
i used to hate you
because of how dark and prominent
you were against the almost pallor
of my skin
people would
make fun of me for you
in middle school especially
but kids are mean
and i stood out in more
ways than my mustache
that would have been more fitting
on a prepubescent teenage boy
than an angry lesbian
i was
shamed into waxing you away
which hurt so much the first time
that i almost cried
but what hurt more than the hot wax
was my father
whose genes gifted me with
darker and coarser hair
always encouraging me to
bleach you away into an acceptable
shade of invisible
and then
when a switch was thrown
inside my body that had
been crying out from the still
tender age of seven that my being
called a girl was
wrong wrong wrong
you were
there still having always
come back after the wax and bleach
but that
fine line of hairs above
my upper lip
you made me feel more masculine
you made me hate myself less
you make me feel more masculine
you make me hate myself less
-
Author:
Boaz Priestly (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 16th, 2017 14:29
- Category: Letter
- Views: 37
- Users favorite of this poem: Aislinn Wilson
Offline)
Comments2
Boaz, great write about your mustache. I understand that in your case it was something you did not want, whereas in my case I let it grow in my mid-twenties and still have it.
Before I came out as a transman, having facial hair was one of the many banes of my existence. Now, though, I love my 'stache and can't wait to get a beard, too 🙂
Every time I search an LGBT term on this site, you seem to come up, but I can't complain. I'm glad to see your poetry again. Though not that long ago, I feel like I got to see a piece that really illustrated your progression as a writer over time.
This is really beautiful, and as always so well written.
This is a really great thing to wake up to. Thank you for continuing to read my work. It means a lot.
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