X. Poem
X. No.
X. Yes.
X. I choose.
X. Wrong.
X. Male. Female. All of the above.
X. True. False. Neither.
X. Dead. Destroyed. Doomed.
X. I’m here!
X. Put it there!
X. Cross here. Hit here. Cut here. Sew here.
X. Sign here.
X. Beware! Don’t go there. Don’t drink this.
X. Discard this. Replace this. Don’t break this.
X. Count me in. Count me out. I count.
X. I don’t fit in. I stand out. I want out. Go away.
X. I don’t write. I can’t read. I can’t see. I can’t breathe. My hand shakes.
X. I was here. This is the way. I’m down here.
X. I’ve written this so many times, you know what I mean.
X. I won’t write the rest. Not anymore. But I will leave you with this.
X. A kiss.
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Micaela Tucker meant to be a writer but wound up a doer instead. Mom of 3, is a member of The Dartmouth Institute’s executive team where she is chief yogi.