i never wanted to grow up to be anything horrible
as a man. my biggest fear was the hair they said
would snake from my chest, swamp trees
breathing as i ran. i prayed for a different kind
of puberty: skin transforming into floor boards
muscles into cobwebs, growing pains sounding
like an attic groaning under the weight of old
photo albums. as a kid i knew that there was
a car burning above water before this life, i woke
here to find fire scorched my hair clean off
until i shined like glass—my eyes, two acetylene
headlamps. in my family we have a story for this:
my brother holding me in his hairless arms. says
dad it will be a monster we should bury it
2018
Regular
Contemporary
2023
Body & Body Image
Childhood & Coming of Age
Enjambment
a line break interrupting the middle of a phrase which continues on to the next line
Essay/Prose
written or spoken language in its ordinary form, without metrical structure
Imagery
visually descriptive or figurative language, especially in a literary work
Simile
a comparison between two unlike things using the words “like” or “as”