Like overgrown kudzu, it smothers.

Crawls.

Engulfs.

Tangles.

Wraps around me

as though I am nothing more than

a concrete structure.

Until you can no longer discern

what lies beneath.

I have always felt a slight distance from the ground everyone seems so certain they belong to.

As if I arrived midway through a story already being told.

An ancient legend written before my time, attempting to be transcribed into modern language.

So I stand quietly in its margins, observing the characters, fade in and out.

Here I am,
the one you always wanted,
shutting out the noise inside
still a child,
disguised in an overgrown body.