I am.

I am.
I am dark hair,
small bones,
one voice.
I am an image,
false at times,
unreadable at others.
I am poetry and music,
words and meaning.
Nothing.
I am my voice when not speaking.
I am my thoughts put on paper.
I am something without control,
something carefully nurtured,
something I don't understand.
The sum total of my experiences,
the simplicity of the moment.
the fury of the times.
Changing,
remaining,
becoming.
Still so much the same,
still so much so different.
I am young
and old,
seeing outside and in.
I am you
and me
and us
all together.
I am your words when you loved me,
your actions when we were one.
Our love,
what we created.
I am anger
and jealousy,
fear and hope.
Your gifts.
My interpretation.
I am brown eyes,
pale skin,
quiet words masking my thoughts.
You and your gift to me.
I am everything,
all of this.
Pieces of you and me carried forever,
added to the growing whole.


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