Who I think I am
Is a detestable
Vindictive
Obnoxious woman
As cold as a white blizzard
Raging on to the roughest mountains
I think I am the murderess
Sheathed in the dark forest
Jolting the tides of its pond
I think I am the uncaring father
Sinning in secret alleys
The most sadistic of killers
Calloused as a fist
Cut as sharp as a jewel

But
Who I really am
Is a confused
Fragile
Indecisive porcelain doll
As breakable as a shattered wine glass
On a wine-stained marble floor
I am the delicate blossom
Of a thorny bush
I am like a pond
Still but shaken
Waiting to show the world around me
That there are crystal shells under the murky water
I am not an insatiable destructive brat
But the scattered flowers of a glass vase
That was shattered by the brat