Trans Offspring

Nobunaga flattened by the heat, getting as much of his body on the cool wood parquet as possible and knowing the day is a dazy passing of the hours with no walkies.
Flattened, molded by expectations...he's lucky he's able to fit in the parameters of what is expected in a perfect household pet, able to contain parts of his natural hunting drive and personal canine inclinations, willing to adapt to survive on the meagre scraps of a protected existence. 
I know what it's like to survive, flattened by another's secret, protected by the mold of normality and nursing the hidden pain of forced separation and distress...the natural flow of love and delight prohibited in service of mandatory training to be normal, to see normal, to embrace normal...even when normal is the source of the issue, there's no escape for a child. And so I have learned to do normal, and live cramped with secrets, bound in by the weight of the knowledge that is even now not mine to share.