Identity
like nails in my coffin
this woman
this girl
this lady
when will it stop?
I am not what they think I am
despite this woman’s body
I am not a woman
nor am I a man
I am something transient
in between
neither
yet both
like a shot to the gut
hers
she
her
those aren’t my words
they feel like tacks on my tongue
call me
they
them
theirs
those give me comfort
those feel right
those are my words
© Indigo Fable Wren – June 17, 2020 – 7:54 am
