Strange thing, authenticity.
It sort of squirms, morphs, blacks out
When you stare,
But sure enough when you forget it
Ah, I'm a warrior-princess!
Or an enlightened ethereal being
Living in the trees.
I cry alot, it seems,
And yet, everyone says I laugh,
And I do.
I secretly love to peg myself down.
Is it vain, do you think?
Favorites, preferences, opinions,
And in the end of it all,
Who I am is who I'll be--in eternity:
A raw, flickering, lifted-up soul,
Strong by strength not her own.
She craved intimacy.
And, yes, a warrior princess.