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Or, proving a point

Photo by Christin Hume on Unsplash


So tell me,

She said,

What is it like to be who you are?

It Depends,

He replied,

On what day you ask

And what I have done

It depends on the moon, and the sun

On the minutia and the big picture

There is no way to box me in

Label and define me

No one way to categorize my dreams and hopes

Or my darkest fears

I do not belong to “all” or “nothing”

I do not belong solely in the middle.

How can you ask such a question

With no fear, and no regard?

Exactly, she said

Exactly my point.

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Read next: Poem: New Life
Grace Tackett
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