I Am Me
I am more than just a pale face
the ghost of generations past,
I am not.
And neither am I my upbringing,
or any of the things that
anyone else might be.
I am me.
Not perfect,
nor beautiful,
But I am,
in my own
special way.
I am like a book.
A book is like me.
Waiting to be filled
from cover to cover
with all the universe
sees fit to gift the likes of me
I am the universe’s
Encyclopedia Britannica.
The amalgamation of
all the many years it has taken
me
to be
me
Hard and leathery outer shell,
soft and tear-able,
vulnerable on the inside.
I am a work of nature’s progress,
the stars the author,
my mind and body the paper.
Under this pale face are the pages of
a cosmic book,
a work in progress.
Beautiful in it’s own way,
it is titled,
Me.