who are you really?

who are you once you are stripped naked,
beaten and hung in front of everyone you have ever had an idea of loving?

who are you when your name sticks in your throat like hot tar,  makes you choke and drown in dry air?

who do you think you are after every descriptor has been smashed at your feet
on the barbs of yourself you never wanted to uncover?

what would you have been if you had never seen a mirror?
would you love yourself more;
would you see yourself better?

what will happen to you when the world ends, but still keeps spinning, and all you have is blood and ***** spilling from your mouth?

who would you be without the walls of words that you have built to keep your soul from splitting out the seams of your body?

if nothing in your life had ever mattered, would you be what stands before you now?