Stop trying to tell me who I should be as if it’s a choice. You lost that privilege a long time ago.
I’m the creature who never learned to carve out a personality. The compass is broken. I can’t recognize directional interests when self esteem was never developed.
I’m the lizard who changes hues on a whim. I’m the beast who becomes ecstatic or despondent at the sound of your voice.
I’m hiding in the leaves of your tree, waiting for your next move to inform mine.
I’m blending like the good girl who wants to be a part of the social fabric.
Or I’m standing out with my shades of red and gold, saying “Fuck you! I won’t do what you want!”
I flip flop as an evolutionary tool. I recreate to survive this empty vessel. I shed the old and usher in the new every other minute.
Over and over again until there is nothing left of me but an imprint of the rainbow I exhausted etched upon my mind’s eye.