Dylan Zucati

NO title

Before I begin my poem I’d just like to say I’m scared

I’m scared of where our country is going

And I’m scared of where I fit into it all

I’m scared of the black and white

Sideline tug of war we’re playing with Democracy

I’m scared of the black and white

Or rather the white and black

I’m scared of picking a side

Not of choosing the wrong one

But of seeing someone I love who did

I’m scared that we elected a reality TV star

To be the most powerful man in the country

I’m scared for my sister

That the most powerful man in the country

Makes her gender a joke

And her ambitions a quickly fading dream

Too distant to remember more than colors

Too laughable to remember more than sobs

I’m scared of a war started from tweets

Ending with a tiny orange thumb on a big red button

I’m scared of an enemy who hates me

For the choices of half of the population

Those who chose not to choose

Because they hate women more than injustice

I’m scared of talking politics with the wrong people

Because I don’t want them to hate me

I’m scared of the right people

Thinking I’m an idiot

I’m scared of coming out

To a world that’s asking for silence

Over vocalized pride

I’m scared of coming out to my dad

Who has less than my senior year to live

And his last thoughts of me being confusion

I’m scared of coming out to my dad

When my mom couldn’t understand

How someone could like both boys and girls

And still want a monogamous relationship

I’m scared of telling my mom what a threesome is

I’m scared of telling her that I’ve had one

And that it was fucking fun!

I’m scared of talking about my sexuality

When I barely have a grasp on my gender

How do you tell someone which way you swing

When you don’t what bat you’re holding?

How do I explain that some days I feel like a woman

And very rarely like a man

And mostly like a little boy

Who just pissed himself on his first date

Because he doesn’t know how to tell the girl across the table

That he’s loved her since the moment he first laid eyes on her

How do I even begin to think about who I am

When I’m still trying to parse out who you were?

When I’m kept awake at night thinking

Of the people you’re fucking

But more importantly

Those you’re having coffee with

Who will give you books to read

And tell you how lovely you are

In all the ways I could not

I’m scared I’m distracting myself with you

To keep my mind off the ticking clock

Of my father’s cancer

I’m scared of being the one to stand in front of everyone

And tell them all about what a great man he was

I’m scared that for the first time in my life

I will have run out of things to say

I’m scared you’ve all grown tired of my poem

I’m scared the beginning was too gimmicky

I’m scared that it was too repetitive

And that I don’t rhyme enough

I’m scared that when I do

You’re gunna hate that one too

So without further ado

The poem:


This poem is titled

For the Audience:


Thank you,

For making me feel safe

3 AM and the House is Empty

A Midwinter Night's Dream