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Who are you?
Who are you? The common question that is frequently followed by blank stares. Who do you think I am? What kind of question is that? We’ve known each other for so long and you don’t even know me? What we say, do, and think, all provide insight on the question that lingers unconsciously over peoples minds. When I ask you who you are, its obvious I know. I know that you like drinking your coffee without sugar, that you cut the crusts off your sandwich, or when your friend needs help you’re the type of person that rushes to assist them with what ever they need. I already know where you live and who you live with, but I want to know more. I want to know what you think, what you feel, whom you think about during different situations.
So that question, again, Who are you?
I may not know who exactly I am but I will tell you what I’m not.
I am not the selfish next door neighbor who accuses you of stealing from their garden.
I am not the naiive little girl who thinks that you like her because you are forced to play with her every Saturday afternoon.
I am not the clown from the freak show trying to make a living.
I am not a liar.
I am not that ditz who makes fun of you the minute you turn your back,
nor am I her back up who is just a measly follower.
I am not a screamer or a fighter,
but I will fight for who I am.
When I figure that out, that is.
I am not like the sly fox you hear about in books,
or the wolf that will eat you alive.
I am not the one that lies to get what she wants; all I have to do is ask.
I am not your mother; I will not be waiting forever.
I am not your father; I wouldn’t be able to handle not knowing if you really hate me or if it’s just an act.
I am not your family; and if it was up to me, I wouldn’t want one.
I am not the wilting flower you find between cement cracks.
I am not the stars; out of reach.
I am not the one that stays up late at night because you’re too afraid to walk home alone.
I am not whom you hate; because you can’t hate what you don’t know.
I am not whom you love; because we are all incapable of being real.
I am not the one that loves to taunt and hurt, but I will do what I need if you try to underestimate who or what I care for.
I am not the one who thinks it’s alright to insult whoever, whenever.
I am not the person I wish to become; but at least I am not a snitch.
I am not an infidel; who’s as ignorant as a rock.
I am not something special.
I am not a genius; but it doesn’t take a genius to figure this out.
I am not here to play games; do I look like a Queen to you?
I am not a quitter.
I am not a fool.
I am not you.