i am who i am
nothing changes that
although time eventually erodes the sharper edges
the rock is still a rock
regardless of how much has been gnawed away

the artist’s choice is one between passion and responsibility
the choice, freedom or compromise, is the salt water the wind
the brutal sands time continuously uses to dull us
instinct or logic

my reluctance to grow-up is entirely intentional
(i have seen too much of what becomes of adults)
i lived through what brought me here
awkwardly standing right outside another locked door
awkwardly standing alone, awkwardly listening
while the party churns on inside
awkwardly waiting for the click that invites me into the other side

if times takes hers from me anyway
why, then, do i spend mine waiting
(i have seen too many too old, too tired)

i decide
i decidedly succumb to the first fact of life
i am who i am

allow me the lightness of waking void of the burden of your desire

i have been licking these clipped wings to health for far too long and i am just about to take off again
release me of nostalgia
do not miss me, please
just encourage me
please

i am who i am

that is this artist’s choice

af

(written on pen & paper)