My Great I Am

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