I was born empty
but now I am full
of borrowed ideas
Stuffed to the brim with others’ words
Irrevocably altered by everyone
I know by sight and smell and touch
as well as strangers I will never
have the privilege to meet

My “gut” is a flabby sack of flesh
and nothing more
I have nothing
that cannot be warped
by time and experience
I am surrounded by rules
that mutate with every breath

I can change
everything about me
with the proper incentive
because my slate was blank
until it was filled
without my permission