Biology is a Cage

 

​I’m no one. I’m nobody. I’ve always been nobody.
And in being nobody, I’m in a place that doesn’t exist.

How they shape nobodies to shield the somebodies—
our backs bent into bridges,
our pain swallowed like communion.

“You are a man in a dress,
a mistake sewn from the inside out,
a fetish, a phase, a Frankenstein.”

They call it biology—
I call it a cage.

Let me be nobody—
because nobody is all I’ve ever known,
and in the hollow of that word,
I’ve made a cathedral
with my own two trembling hands.

​