a poem for h.helyx

first roll call of the year (space-body-spectator) [w.i.p]

i absolutely dread roll call- having to explain that
no, stokely is not some new, hip way of announcing my presence,
like instead of saying "here" or "that's me", kids in the states
call out names of dead revolutionaries- karl! huey! che!
it took me two whole fucking minutes to get ms. professor to understand me:
"Ess.. Tee.. Ohh.. Kayy.." , like spelling it out
is going to make me less embarrassed.

before this morning, only four people knew my real name.
now i can just taste the questions brewing in my classmates minds:
"why did you change it? i like your old name better.
isn't yr real name good enough?"
all i can do is smile and say,
the story is long and too complicated,
because thinking abt how my personal decisions
translate in this new place is complicated.

i need some space away from these people and their
snarky (if not well-intentioned) comments about
my gender and my body and name-
i am not a spectacle, my life story is not
a book to read for your entertainment.
in class, i feel nothing but uncomfort, apprehensive of interacting with
baby drama nerds sprinting and twirling around the stage,
as if they were born to be dancers.

i do not trust anyone in this room.

i do not owe anything to anyone in this room.