All These Things

Poetry

Photo by Max Bender on Unsplash

U n p a c k* you said, melt.
I've been avoiding it for weeks
— half-truth, but really it has been
years compounding
down to now.

I have been trying to answer
that question, since before
I could breathe — just
who am I really?

You see, the mirror of shards
that splintered years ago from
love and trauma, from decisions
and these are the different angles

of this life — my life, and of me.

And I am all these things — 
that cannot be summed up
in one breath, with one idea,
with one label and one definition.

What I know, is what makes
my soul skip beats to an EDM chorus,
and what makes me run
full tilt off a cliff
to just feel the miracle of flight.

I am that stranger,
that you met at the
most inconvenient time
of your life but insisted you listen.