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What Am I Or, Who Am I?
What Am I Or, Who Am I?
A bundle of lies
or, a bit of truth
what am I?
sometimes the dilemma
sits pretty on psyche
at times
it wears heavy on my mind
still groping...who am I?
Do I own what I am carrying with me?
the bones, the flesh and blood
above all the soul?
do I have to forfeit all these
when I am no longer breathing?
Would my own miss me
when I am gone?
or, my fate will be like
the mighty peak of the mountain
that grows smaller
the farther we move from its distinct territory?
Why do my ch
eeks flame with indignation
when my hands are filled with emptiness?
and my soul peeks through the window of my body
to palpate the truth
but embraces deep silence?
am I hungry for power, pelf and glory
or just want to script a sublime story?
what am I up to actually?
Am I too shy to tell life
that I cherish indulgences?
like any other girl
I too love to
twine hair strands into braids
passionately lick the last piece of cake
hide face with the hem of my shawl
when a stranger passes by?
what am I or who am I actually?
