What happens to an empty box?
The thought of me not fitting
Neatly into their box
Sacres them for some reason
Not quite this, not fully that
I don't check off
All the things on the list
To call me one or the other
I spent
No, wasted
Years of my life trying to fit
Into a box that wasn't made for me
Trying to change aspects of myself just
To appease those around me
In a constant struggle with who
I am
And who they made me feel
I should be
This poem is about:
Me
My community