They say you can do anything
you set your mind to; then they ask you
what you want to be when you grow up.
When you answer them,
the thorns begin to show.

I told them I would be a priest;
they said I wasn’t man enough.
I told them teacher, journalist;
they said my skin was way too thin,
that I could not hold the attention of…

I grew into my too-thin skin
while they were looking the other way.
I told them I would be a priest;
my weaknesses became the tender spots
where who I am bleeds through to what I do.