I wanted to slowly reveal myself to the people around me
This would be a gift I gave to them alone

But I tired of the world and the world tired of me,
me and my womanly ways

I’d barely lived a day, a week, or even a year

I don’t know what I’d been doing wrong
I don’t know what trees do other than live and die and live and die

The world says I’m but a teenager
because I’m tired all the time and I’ve got lanky limbs

Now my legs are a gift that I extend to you

Originally published in White Wall Review 41 (2017)