I'm a poet on Wednesdays,
A listener in the early morning,
An artist on bright afternoons.
I'm mindful in the crevices of the day,
A friend in all the moments I can be,
A student in the hours in between.
I'm a daughter at Christmas,
A sister in Saturday evening phone calls,
A stranger in a fresh room.
I'm a voice when its needed,
I'm and explorer when I'm brave,
And a hermit when I'm not.
I'm bold in an empty notepad,
I'm unseen in a sea of faces,
I'm free in a space of green.
When we are young, and small,
We are too simple to be more
Than what is easily seen.
A child wears her identity on the surface.
At five,
I was cross-eyed and wild,
At ten,
I was awkward and bright,
At sixteen,
I was timid and kind.
But now that I have
Learned, and
Grown, and
Become complicated,
The list of what is me
Stretched, and
Curled, and
Tangled.
The font I'm written in
Changes chapter to chapter,
My colored light
Breaks and refracts in the mirror.
I am distorted within myself.
My father will tell you I am creative,
My mother will say I'm funny,
To Elias I am hopeful,
To Emma I am eccentric.
I am still learning to be
So much at one time
I dont have an answer to what I am
But for now I am a poet under a tree
©vivian.
V