My therapist asked me who am I?
And I looked at my mother and
asked her who she wanted me to be;
She said she wanted a son that didn’t
sniff ******* in his dreams.
And she looked at my sister and said
“What does your brother mean?”
And she said;
“All he illuminates is exactly what a
human being shouldn’t be.”
And she looked to his grandmother
and asked;
“What kind of grandson is he?”
And she said;
“The kind that gets lost on the streets.”
And she looked at his grandfather and
asked if he agreed.
He nodded but pleaded that there’s no
way to save someone like me.
And they looked to his current
lover and asked;
“What kind of person is he?”
And she replied;
“The type of person that screams in
his sleep, the kind of person you wish
your daughter wouldn’t meet, the type
of person who’s married to overthinking
and can’t marry me.
He is the definition of deceit and you’ll
often find him by the sea threatening to
jump in because he thinks the fish will
actually care about his dreams.”

And silence filled the room.

And they all asked;
“What kind of person do you think you
could be?”
And the black sheep looked at his
shepard’s and said;
“Whoever you want me to be.”