My identity
is a trick of the light,
shifting inside,
deflating my pride
as I try decide
who I get to be.

It’s a flickering screen
timing out before
it is fully seen,
fade to black
end this scene.

It’s shifting, permitting
me to be
an ever-transforming being.

Non-specific
till you take and pin it
and then my friend,
I up and spin
forwards and back again
discovering
new shocks from which
I need recovering.

Self-smothering
in a blanket of
familiar things that I love.
Until, I’ve had enough
and need a new perspective.

Super selective,
unless I let it
flow out
like a poem.

If anyone tries to define me
I will show those showmen.
Take all the loops and throw’em.
Until even I can’t tell
where I am going.

Who am I?

Brother, Poet, Friend,
Good Samaritan,
Introverted Comedian,
Selfish Altruist
cause kindness suits
my purpose.

I am not certain yet,
but as soon as I figure it out,
I’ll crawl back to my space of doubt,
cause I am bound to change again.