Olivia Godoy

 

Oh, how I wish to be able

to label myself to know

how I am able to fit onto

society’s table–

 

For I am not the scraps

fallen down ‘til taps of talons

tear into whatever prize they trap,

 

But I am not the main course

Which feeds desires of dreamers

with little to no remorse.

 

I am the cracks in the stained

beams which cast light between

the worlds where I am restrained,

 

For I am covered in the mess of

humanity’s proven carelessness.