I’m sitting Cramped In a tight spot So jammed between neighbors at our breathing mingles And we as a whole A Whole Act as one behemoth Consciousness Identity Being And every breath I breathe Is but a solitary note In the orchestra’s context. And yet, My timing is slightly o . I march to the beat of a unique drummer Whose booming whacks are e speed with which blood courses through me To dictate my diaphragm In its intricate intake patterns. I am di erent To be simple. Not di erent enough that I don’t belong, But also Di erent enough that I can’t belong. You see, I look like…