I am a metaphor.

I am the feeling

between asleep and awake

before the panic of oversleep settles in.

I am sneakers

with a dress

and unbrushed hair.

I am not

an apology

for how I look.

I am

a story

with something important to tell.

I am the messy handwriting

of a student

rushing to finish.

I am graphite

glittering down the side

of a tired hand.

I am a collection

of powerful ideas

in a book of my life.

I am highlighted pages

and dog-eared corners

because "I love this quote."

I am a broken spine

opened a few too many times,

and read a few too little.

I am poetry embodied,


I am more

than words

on a page.

I am also


I am drawings on napkins

in a fast food restaurant.

I am swirled primary colors

on display in The Louvre.

I am the colors

of my past,


and future

blended into who

I am.

This poem is about: 


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