Aposematism

I have neither poison nor venom

And fight or flight becomes false dichotomy

When your choice is always the same.

I’ll wrap myself in Batesian mimicry —

See these spikes, see these stitches,

See these trappings of a bitch

With whom you do not fuck?

I want to fake it till I make it.

I want to make affectation true.

I want to wear my outside in.