Who am I?

Who Am I?

Brave is the name I carry. 

Weak is the essence I feel. 

Hard is the ground beneath me. 

Hot is the pavement that I glide over barefoot. 

Loose is the shirt that I wear. 

Stone cold is the look he gave me.

When I told him that I could never.

Fathom the world beyond the stars. 

Because how can I know of what is not tangible?

And I need to I need to I need to learn. 

To ground myself deep into the roots of the earth. 

Before I leave too soon. 

Brave is the name that I am. 

And sense is the thing that I do not have. 

And gray is the color of the pavement. 

And burnt are the trees of the forest. 

That we neglect. 

Imagine their leaves. 

That turn to ash just by one touch. 

And rivers full of plastic. 

Like our hearts. 

When we choose to love the material. 

That destroys us in the end. 

Cliché is a concept I’ve abandoned. 

Home is a place I will find. 

Hot is the pavement that I glide over barefoot.