I tried to be soft; tried to be gentle and delicate,

but I’ve got a body full of bones

and sharp edges.

I’ve got blood;

red hot blood,

pumping through my veins.

I tried to be soft,

but I was always

painfully human.

I tried to be small; tried to fit in the palm of your hand,

but your fingers

just wouldn’t stretch,

and I’m not showing any signs

of shrinking.

I tried to be tangible; tried to make myself into something I could give away,

but you can’t make presents

out of people,

and I will never be

something to put a bow on.

I tried to be Eve, but they told me I was Lillith.

I tried to fit in to the box

you made me,

but my joints just wouldn’t budge—

my mouth just wouldn’t

stay shut.

And now I’m done trying and trying.

I’m done trying

to put something alive

in a tomb.