Blurring Time

Friday night, drinking boxed wine

Alone in my apartment, blurring time

The texture of air is stale as I stare

In distress at this body of mine

Catastrophic soft symphony

Rigid dichotomy, complex identity

It's not as simple as either or

I am both and I'm more

Most of all, I'm unsure

I think I've become the sort of someone

Who scared me stiff when I was young

Soft as a feather, tough like worn leather

Who am I under the Saturday sun?

Maleficent social construct

If it is all made up

Why do I give a fuck?

I don't want to define myself by

Who I'm not and I'm trying

This is my battle cry

Friday night, drinking boxed wine

Alone in my apartment, blurring time