I couldn’t possibly know who I am.
I’m so many things, places, people, feelings: it would be impossible to really say.
Who I am, that is.
The question of who I want to become also seems pointless.
I want to become whoever I become.
I want to feel, and know, and see life from every angle—
to chase the wind as it takes me.
Who I am now is soft,
is both free and caged,
all at the same time.
The wind of me never stops at one station, only.
I am a woman; passionate, creative, strange.
Beautiful, kind, ugly, horrible.
I couldn’t possibly know who I am;
I never stay the same.
I never will stay the same.