Lurking and Lacking

There’s someone deep inside me who is me,

The “me” who is my soul—or whatever—

Since I’m an unbeliever.  It’s the key,

Though, something that no surgeon can sever,

Not even hifalutin’ blade-like shrinks.

He’s actually a person.  If you scan

Me with precision instruments, he shrinks

Away from view.  He lurks, a hidden man,

Who wants the doctors to release him from

The iron maiden.  I have known this long,

As long as he has wanted to become

Himself with muscles.  Knowing he is strong,

I’ve kept him in the prison of my breast.

He wants escape.  He wants his hairy chest.