I am

I am not who or what you think I am.

I am a piece of shadow crawling through the ground, and repainting all the walls with my darkness all around.

I am the wind that carries all that you say. Your whispers in secret that got away.

I am a ripple in the water, appearing for a moment. A second of existence that finds meaning in its movement.

I am the sound of leaves as they rustle from the branches. I am the sound of rain, of puddles, and splashes.

I am an existence brought about by the moment, standing as I am and stuck in that moment.

I am flesh that occupies space.

I am skin that deteriorates through time.

I am who I am and that is solely mine.

I am infinity trapped in contingency,
Full of loopholes and cracks far away from divinity,
With a darkness that grows as much as my light.
With blindness that worsens as much as my sight.
I am lies that covers a mountain of corpses.
A curtain of blood pricked from thorns of roses.

I am never just a period, a word, or a sentence.
I am what I am, in a moment in the present.

I am a lot of things and much much more.
But never the definitions you've made me for.