Who Am I?

The concept of who I am

Frustrates me every single day

Dreaded existentialism

Gnawing at my heart, claws dug into my shoulders

Is what I do enough?

I am a hollow shell,

Cast aside, unwanted

I hover around

A husk, baffled and wondering where I should go next

Who is to train me for this life? Where is my guide?

I watch the world move,

People who know what they’re doing,

On cold sleepless nights

I ask myself “What do I do with this life?”

Is the chill in my heart from the icy cold outdoors

Or from the lack of love I feel for my confused self?

However, as days turn to dust and time slips through my fingers

I have discovered my true purpose, simple as it may seem

I am a daughter, a sister, a friend

I am a reader, a writer, a lover

I am who I want to be, whatever I choose to be,

And perhaps that is all I need after all.

Fin