There's a woodpecker
in my chest
tapping on my ribs
tapping on my breast
tapping on my feelings
even when I rest
There's a woodpecker
in my lungs
smothered by the tar
muted and unsung
choking on black shame
swallowed by my tongue
There's a woodpecker
behind my eyes
beating its blue wings
chained under the lies
weeping for passion
under my disguise
I want to set you free,
woodpecker
from the cage inside
my chest
but this conformity,
woodpecker,
forces you to hide
like all the rest
I would let you out if I could.