riddle

is this some kind of joke?

i identify with the tortured poet
the homeless wanderer
the dejected street punk
misunderstood
rebeling against all things community

i
am
so
confused

there is room inside of me for all of these things
i can be anything
so who am i then?

anyone i want to be?

do i have to choose?

only for the sake of others
they confuse easily
these humans
who seek consistency
when there is none to be had

someone said

create nothing

if you do, it will stick to you
follow you around
bite you in the ass
as others lay waste to your dream
to your creative being
we are all so fragile and destructive
ignorant and asleep

what is this place I am in?
what is my role here?

who can connect in a place as violent as this?

I need help, spirit
i know you know this
i don't know what i am doing
aside from my fierce independence
rearing her ugly head
looking around for acceptance
and support

therein lies fear
if i am truly who i am
then i am by default
unlovable

which fire shall i throw this one into?

what will it take
for me to fall in love
with myself?

i whisper sweet words of passion and joy
to myself
the words fall on
ears that doubt
and breasts that repulse
you do not know of which you speak
you have been mistaken
misguided
silly little ignorant schmuck
youre a clown
a fool
your mask is a pretty one
yet unimpressive

what
am
i
?