I am caught in between, or rather, I exist there comfortably.
Wedged in, or rather, nestled, right where I was born.
Some don’t see me as whole.

Others see me as a hole—in their ideology.
I break the factory flow.
When it’s time to sort me they can’t find where I go.
Gender is energy. Not created or destroyed.
Just felt.

No, I am not lost.

Truth is, my body can’t be mapped.
I remain the compass and the needle.

Witness the North suffocating the South.

I am a collection of poems that have yet to read themselves.
I am an unchecked box, I am doubts’ invitation.
I am an uncomfortable truth at an unbearable volume.

I am.

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