Because

Because

My mother,
While doing her hair,
Asked why I hunch over when I breath.
“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 breath.
“Because friend,”
I said,
“I’m in love with our friend,
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 breath.
“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 breath.
“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.”