I am more than a simple body.
I am more than a young woman.
I am more than a human being.
I am more than a physical technicality.
I am more than anything that could ever define me.
I am love, as Cupid might know;
aching, longing, grasping for something out of reach, out of my heart’s desires.
I am frequency, as the cosmos must have felt;
vibrating between chaos and silence.
I am consciousness, as my reality has proven;
aware, too aware, of every wound that never healed.
I am impulsiveness, as my words might have said;
spilling out before I can stop them, before they can ever be taken back.
I am passion, as my body proves;
burning, consuming, destroying, marking.
I am devotion, as my partners believe;
until devotion becomes too religious as a love form.
I am deep emotions, as my mind makes me feel;
drowning in them, unable to come up with the same oxygen I have the right to breathe as a human being.
I am darkness, as my nature represents;
twisting, swallowing every light my existence could ever find.
I am the universe, experimenting with human life;
trapped in this fragile form I can never break from.
I am a nightdreamer, as the stars can tell you;
whispering my sorrows to a sky that never answers.
I am art, when it comes to my heart and wounds,
every masterpiece is made from personal blood as paint, and words as brush.
I am romance, with dark traits;
aching love, tragic love, twisted love, dark love, devotive love, obsessive love, possessive love, that special underrated love,
that cuts as deeply and as pleasantly as a well-preserved knife.
I am curious, as the dead cat may know;
some things, I was never meant to learn, and yet, I committed sins for them.
I am the best in some stories, and the worst in others;
no hero, no villain, just someone lost in the in-between.
I am loyalty, until betrayal shows me reality;
an emotional knife that slowly slides between my ribs.
I am desperation, when it comes to life;
clinging to it, afraid of what’s beyond,
yet always on the edge of my sanity.
I am expressive, but only to a certain extent,
some things are too raw to say out loud for human ears.
I am messed up, with no limits or sanity involved;
too broken, too twisted, too lost, too unrealistic, too complicated to comprehend.
And yet, still, I am.