There is more truth around my neck
than there is in my whole body.

And scratched into the clasp
are the marks of honesty.

And clinging to the velvet
is a whisper of who I could be.

But the lump in my throat,
the way my shoulders stretch out
a little too far away from my flat chest
and my hips don't quite fit
the way I want to walk.

Your eyes see body first,
Truth second.