so what if i want what i want

a good appearance, a man according to my every liking

a job that will fulfill me

no settling  for less

only surround me with what is for me the best


does this make me impossible like counting the earth's sand ?


so what if i like being around my boys, my tom-boy self

enjoying the attention, part of the non expectant fun

no FUSS no drama

daring conversation and maybe a random spontaneous run


does it make e a slut, a whore, an attention seeking gut ?


so what if i am a little strange... aren't we all

sometimes babbling sometimes at a loss for words

even more so thought, ideas, understanding, interest ... memories

does that make me unacceptable, unbearably awkward, the bull in the china shop ?




it means i'm real

i'm perfectly inperfect

with no preformed idea or identity


i'm 7 different me's


i can be your laugh, cry or scream

i can be strong, polite or even wrong

i can be with you, without you,


on or under, a chameleon no doubt


i can be your love, wife, your best friend

if only you see me hidden

vulnerable and shy


maybe you will see my inner joy, strength, my lullaby 

The End

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