Who am I?
I am a character.
I am the frog with tunnel vision, who is oblivious to all the ponds in this endless world that mirror his own. I am the girl disillusioned by the growing life within her womb, who is isolated in the frozen depths of a metaphysical hell. I am the boy who is too proud to grovel at the feet of those who have corrected him, who has a stabilizing demeanor from the opposing temperatures of a burning hubris and a chill humility.
But of these three depicted personas, who am I? Of the multitude of quirky, kindred spirits that I give breath to in the pages of differing poems, which one is an exact replica of myself? In total honesty, none of the characters aforementioned, or in the poems, play out the events of my life or completely acquire the nuances that make me “me.” Each character is somehow, in someway, a personification of a specific quality that rests within my soul.
I am their creator- a creator and a lyrical entrepreneur with the task of businessing lives through grabbing into my pant pocket and taking out a piece of myself. Thus, I am none other than a poet.
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