Because

My mother,

While doing her hair,

Asked why I hunch over when I breathe.

“Because Mother,”

I said,

“The weather is changing,

And the humidity makes it hard to breathe.

So I hunch from all the effort.”

My friend,

Not really listening,

Asked why I hunch over when I breathe.

“Because friend,”

I said,

“I’m in love with a boy,

And I cannot breathe when he’s around.

So I hunch away from all of him.”

My teacher,

Sympathetically smiling,

Asked why I hunch over when I breathe.

“Because teacher,”

I said,

“My Lungs feel heavy and numb,

And my light head begs for separation.

So I hunch from these cumbersome disputes.”

My doctor,

Wielding his cold stethoscope,

Asks why I hunch over when I breathe.

“Because Doctor,”

I say,

“My heart, ensnared in its cage of ribs,

Carved an exit with the butcher’s knife.

I hunch to hide my scars.”