Who am I?
Am I a scream,
a shout,
a call into space?
Am I my weight,
my grades,
my numbers?
Am I a broken battered bird,
trying to fly without wings?
Am I my hair colour?
Am I my eye colour?
Am I my skin colour?
Am I the words that people whisper when they believe I can't hear?
Am I the ragged clothes that I wear?
No.
I am the songs that blast through my ear buds
on those rainy Monday mornings,
I am the laughs and the smiles
that my favourite jokes give me,
I am what goes on in my brain
when I cannot hold onto reality anymore.
I am my Saturday brunch
with my favourite TV shows,
I am my tracks in the snow,
I am God's most amazing creation.
I am the melodies
that leave my fingertips,
I am things that I love,
I am a tiny undefinable speck
in this vast and wonderful Universe.
I am everything I do,
I am everything I say,
I am everything I write.
But in the end, I am only human.
I was meant to arrive,
to thrive
and to die.
I was meant to be all the things I am,
and none of the things I am not.
That is
who I am.
*~j.c~*
YOU ARE READING
Dear World
Poetry"dear world, can you hear me?" [a collection of poems, thoughts, and quotes that tend to occupy my brain] Hopefully this collection makes you feel happy, or more okay, or even makes you realize that existing is not so bad after all.
