Identity Crisis

October 10, 2008
By Cassandra Cuddy, Milford, MA

August 17, 2008

I'm a wisp
I'm a twist
I'm a mix, of contradictions
I'm the sun
I'm the breeze
I'm the rocks, beneath your feet
I'm a heart
I'm a soul
I am tears in my father's eyes
I'm a word
A whole novel
I'm a song composed of sighs
I am weak
I am strong
I'm truth and I am lies
I am lost
I belong
I'm the moon
And I'm the tide
I'm dust
In a corner
I'm cheese
Melted on bread
I'm mucus
stuck in your nose
I'm that song
stuck in your head
I'm the sky
So very blue
I'm a bird with broken wings
I'm a dream, full of hope
I'm a box of forgotten things
I am laughing
I am crying
The sun is dancing, in my eyes
I am hiding
But I am trying
I'm a soft and priceless hide
I'm the sting
I'm the bite
I'm the cool slime of lotion
I'm a beauty
I'm a goon
I'm a purple, misting potion
I am love
I am desire
I'm a small, but burming fire
I am stuck
I'm barely there
I'm a creaking rocking chair
I'm a garden
An ice-cream cone
The end of the street, with a flickering light
I'm a faux
A dial Tone
I'm a quiet, breathing fight

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