Me?

Who am I?

I can’t answer that.

It’s a question that I often ask

myself,

as well —

I wear no mask

and wear my past

on my sleeve.

The scars and art,

beauty and sleaze —

my life’s been nice

and interesting:

even the darkest parts

inspired me,

opened my eyes to brighter things

and things, I think,

better left unseen.

I’m obscene and sweet,

honestly,

peculiar,

an anomaly —

I’m just like you.

I’m just me.