(identity crisis)

I don’t know how to be this person

I have so clearly become.

I don’t know when it happened,

but somewhere between the other broken dreams,

new ones crept through the cracks and I can’t tell if they’re flowers

or weeds,

But they’re here, and they will not be ignored—

their fragrance is strong, and I’ll admit,

they seem lovely.

           

I don’t know how to reconcile

this apparent part of me

with the parts I understand,

the parts that make sense,

the parts I... love.

Because I have spent my lifetime

(so far)

enjoying independence

and powerfully protecting the sweet solitude

that defined me and my future.

So, imagine my surprise

when I pause to fantasize about twin coffee cups,

and a bed turned down on both sides.

And nevermind that there are times that my life let that happen;

those were different:

I was blindsided, caught of guard,

by Very Specific Someones

(and often annoyed by their interruption)

Where now, I am compelled by an acute awareness of a specific silence in my life.

I don’t know how to be this person

and I don’t know if I want to learn,

but it seems I have to, because for better or worse,

I am this person.

I just can’t get control of my crazybrain

because I can’t find the words to explain

to myself 
how, or why, or when

I came to want…something

I can’t even say.

(I don’t know how to be someone

who needs something

so dependent

on someone

else)