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Sam Wilhoit

About Sam

Sam Wilhoit is a 24 year old queer trans guy who is an internationally published poet. His poetry comes from a place of yearning and curiosity about identity and connection. His work has been published by The Elevation Review, In Parentheses, Vancouver Poetry House, Olivetree Review, Lupercalia Press, and The Clementine Zine.

My dysphoria feels like

Two sandbags hang from my chest

I am used to their weight until

I move my feet

Gravity reminds me of their presence

If I let them free underneath my shirt,

movement causes them to unfurl and bounce like a slinky

Hear them inhale before they slam

against my skin

a raspy accordion breath

When I try to complain about

the potential energy pent up

behind my binder,

my friends say that I should be happy

I wish my chest looked like yours

I wish I had a pair of balloons

two grapefruits to ruin my SSRIs but

who needs antidepressants when

I have two perky peonies blooming?

The best thing about me is

my eyebrows and my perfect tits

Except that the latter can find a

home on a Petri dish in a

bright sterile room

About My dysphoria feels like

"I have a lot of gender dysphoria surrounding my chest. For a long time, I based how I felt about my chest from the validation of others. Now I want everyone to stop noticing my chest until I get top surgery.

Most of the people who have understood and respected my boundaries surrounding my chest are trans. I wrote this piece to detail my experience with chest dysphoria and how it has caused me to feel isolated from my cis peers because they do not understand my experience.

My hope is for allies to consider their words and listen before they comment on other people's bodies."

Ode to Fruity Trans Guys (Ode to Faggy Trans Guys)

I love the guys who wear

lipstick with their mustaches

Showcase their snail trail with crop tops

Wear dainty sandals over

athletic socks

The ones who paint their nails

and make their necks slutty with

thin chains and beads and pearls

Who loved dress up and

Barbie and Bratz growing up

The ones who show off their

scars by wearing mesh tops

Lingerie with boxers

Thong with a fuzzy chest

I want to kiss your tattoos and

cry in your lap

hold me and sing

early 2000s pop

until my

jaw

softens

again

About Ode to Fruity Trans Guys

"I am in awe of the trans guys I am friends with in NYC. This poem is a love letter to them. I have been told by my mother that I am not a man because I liked dress up and fairies growing up.

Because of that, it means so much for me to meet guys who are very comfortable in their gender identity and like to dress more feminine like gay men versus wearing boxy masculine clothing in dark colors. I can be a guy with a mustache and chunky glitter on my cheeks.

I don't have to give up my crop tops or love of pink so that society sees me a certain way. I know who I am and can express myself however I please. That kind of confidence has been gifted to me by my friends who live their lives unapologetically."