I Am This…

I am this 

by emma magenta

Who I am is not this

not a still lake

jealous of the ocean

it’s expansiveness

freedom to roar and roll

gather momentum

wipe out coastal towns

if it gets the urge.

I am not this

a broken Brumby

fixed in a cowboy lasso

caught and corralled

in a vice for the spirit

craving chaos

not edges tucked in

like an over-zealous housewife.

Who i am is not this

a hero home from a war

of fighting the ordinary

wiping out villages

devoted to secure notions

only to find myself

a forgotten veteran

alone with our silence

in a cramped suburban living room

surrounded by memories

of a life once exciting

now just a string of photos.

They become a prison wall

against an era once lived

like bad souvenirs

from a time too magical

to be reduced to a fridge magnet.

I am this,

a speeding car going off a cliff

squealing past others

who are still in love with their brakes

and terrified for me

as they watch me ride off

into the unknown

a leap of faith.

The trick to courting danger

is the knowledge that I have secret wings.



One thought on “I Am This…

  1. I am a fridge-magnet, with little or no pull
    I am a limpet detached from its hull
    I am purposeless by design, I am misaligned
    I am mistakenly maligned

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