Am I?

Am I who I am when I’m with the people I love?
That is the person I present with intention.
That is the self I want to be seen,
Who I put forth when I seek reciprocation.
Is that my identity,
Or is that just who I want to be -
A small part of me that I allow to be seen?
How different are the two?
Maybe when you subtract who I am from who I want to be,
You get my most genuine self.

Then again, math is not my strong suit.

Am I who I am when I’m angry?
Am I who I am when I start thinking thoughts like,
Could I punch a hole through that wall?
And what would it feel like if I did?
I don’t think things like that often.
That can’t be me, can it?
Those thoughts are thoughts I don’t want to have.
They snuck past my moral filter
And maybe that makes them the most ‘me’ version of me I have.

Or maybe those thoughts are just sick.

Am I who I am when I’m sleep deprived
And when my brain seems to shut down?
Suddenly I realize how important thinking before speaking is,
But is it actually keeping me hidden?
The quiet girl said that.
I hadn’t slept in thirty hours.
(Fortunately, the teacher laughed.)
Was that the me?
I’m tired at this moment.

Is this who I am?

Am I who I am when I feel good about it?
We talk about identity in school.
I can define it for you
Or use it in a sentence, if you prefer.
No, I don’t have a clue what it is.
My identity is tied to everyone I’ve ever met,
Every place I’ve been,
And the things I see and hear.
Or not.
I’ve taken them in or rejected them,
Learned the appropriate time to react.
Or not.
I am who I choose to be, even if it changes.

Maybe I am the filters just as much as what I’m filtering.