My Great I Am

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I am a prodigal son
Though my chromosomes read double X's
Despite what my sex is, I am still prodigal
Not in the sense of wasting dollar bills on gambling teams
Or quarters on slot machines
But I am utterly wasteful
I am a lost sheep
Wandering fields of indulgences
Wondering where the heck my home is
A hopeless wanderer, homeless, no one
I am recklessly endangering to not only others but to myself
I am literally terrified of what I might do, what step it might take, but I never
Messed around with no razor blades
Because that was too crazy for me
I am a broken clock
Who stutters when it ticks just trying to get to the next minute
Ticks with no tocks
Every gear grinding against the grain, the pain of resistance crawls in my flesh and out through my veins
But I am a dam of a person
Doing everything to keep back the tears
But the current is too strong
I can barely hold on
I'm subsiding into a sea of endless gratification
But there is no satisfaction because the sea has run dry
My tired eyes
They look back and think, where did I go wrong?
I am a voice trying to sing
But can’t find the right note
Because it can't escape the endless wrong key
I am an orphan. My parents not deceased but have made themselves dead to me
I am a promiscuous female
Who lets males have what they want
I am stuck
Like Bazooka bubble gum to the bottom of a shoe
I am broken
I cannot handle the person I am with her
False smiles and encouragements
Pretending daily to be someone she is not
Why God? Why am I - this facade of a perfect person - in so much damn despair?
But I need to stop right there
This is not who I am but who I was at another time
These words used to describe myself were from a past life
Because I am not prodigal
Though I still waste away and come back with my head hanging in shame
My father though. He sees me as his daughter
I am not a lost sheep
Because my shepherd hasn't just summoned me but picked me up directly
I am still reckless but not endangered
Because my species has been saved by the courage of others
I am not terrified
Because I understand now the monsters under my bed are just dirty, forgotten socks
I am a working clock
Whose gears work with perfect harmony
Giving high-fives as they pass one another
Creating ticking that is of pure beauty
I am not a dam, but my walls have broken down
There is no longer any resistance
I am a voice not whimpering but soaring so high
It's arpeggio flows so wonderfully it tickles the sky
I am a former orphan adopted into a family of love and light
Whose Father's arms are always open and always warm
I am a proud female
Who cannot and will not allow anyone to just do anything to her
I am stuck, not in the sense of desperation but in celebration of Whom I'm stuck to
I am broken. But my pieces are being put together by the most talented of craftsman
I still fake it, but I am learning I don't have to
Because I know who I am
And who I am is not who I was

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