Ramblings: Identity

What am I?

Who am I?

 

My skin will tell you I’m white.

My body reveals I’m a man.

My passport says I’m British.

My browsing history suggests I’m straight.

 

But that’s not what I am.

It’s not who I am.

 

My job labels me an accountant.

My writing hints I’m a poet.

My education defines me as a dropout.

 

But that’s not what I am.

It’s not who I am.

 

My parents show I’m a son.

My siblings indicate I’m a brother.

 

But that’s not what I am.

It’s not who I am.

 

The colour of my skin,

What hangs between my legs,

What is on my passport,

Who I want to fuck;

These do not define me.

 

My job, my hobby,

My education or lack of,

My achievements and failures;

These are not me.

 

White, male, British, straight.

An accountant, a poet, a dropout.

A son and a brother.

I am all of these things,

But these are not me.

 

My words, my thoughts, my actions,

My choices and my decisions;

These are what define me.

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