I Am Me – a poem

I am me.
I am a person.
I know who I am.
If I don’t, who else will?
I am what I am.
I am me.

I am me.
I am a heart, a brain.
A soul.
A bundle of nerve cells.
I am a creature of emotion.
I am touchy-feely.

I am me.
I am a priestess.
Sacrificing.
Worshipping at the altar of Ancient Ones.
I am seeking their approval.
I am Artist.

I am me.
I am a machine.
Endless.
Working on and on for goals just out of reach.
I am making huge efforts.
I am out of breath.

I am me.
I am a china doll.
Fragile.
“Look, but don’t touch.  She could break.”
I am behind glass.
I am lonely.

But someone picked up the china doll,
And played with her a bit.
Then carelessly, he discarded her.
He had very clumsy hands.
I am no longer the me I was.

Who am I?
No longer a china doll;
The doll is broken and shattered.
Swept up and shoved back behind the glass
In hopes no one would notice.
No longer a priestess;
The priestess is shut out,
Forsaken by the Ones
She herself had briefly forsaken.

Who am I?
I am still me.
But changed.
Emotion dries up and heart freezes.
I am no longer certain of what I want.
I am empty.

I am still me.
I am still a machine.
Tireless.
Just a machine, forging ahead into the future.
I am incapable of being hurt.
I am…

I am a new me.
Better or worse.
I am no longer able to be the me that I was.
Even though I miss the old me.
I am a new me…
An improvement, perhaps.

Copyright 2000, Kat Micari

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