It's Me...Whoever That Is

Hello.  It's me.  Whoever that is.

Who am I?  Don't ask me.  I don't know.

Ask me twice and I'll say, "I'm an oxymoron."

And you'll look at me sideways and chuckle.  Slap my shoulder cuz you think I'm joking. 

And I'll smile.  Of course.  Because that's what I do when I'm being completely serious, but you don't think I am.  And you'll think to yourself, "She's just kidding."  You think.

I'm wild at heart, but domesticated.  And I like it.  For the most part.  Wild and free to be me in the moment, whoever she is at stroke of the clock...rockin' hard, not able to stop.  And the next day: hair smoothed down, straightened out, donning a dirty apron in the kitchen whipping up brownies, rolls, roast, and salad dressing.  Kissing owies and wiping noses. 

Oxy.  Moron.

Pissed off like a Fire Ant, but as soft as French Silk.  That's also me.

Oxy. Moron.

Guns, weightlifting, and testosterone; hoorah!!  Pearls, heels, and acrylic nails.  That's also me.

Oxy. Moron.

Health nut, medical researcher, herbalist.  Cheeto's, butt-laods of ice cream and candy binges.  Yup, that's me.

Can you say, "oxymoron?"

I knew you could.


Loves people, wants to help, there in your time of need.  Hates people, wants a cave to hide in, or a mountain to get lost on.  Also me.  That's right:

Oxymoron.

Full of hope, ready to live life, hitting challenges straight on.  Wishing for eternity to come quickly, skies too gray to fly in, overwhelmed because the toothpaste lid got lost.  Uh-huh.  That's me.

Oxymoron.

Wait a minute.  I think I have the wrong word.

Bipolar.

Hmmmmmmm....

Drip Drop

Drip, drop go the tears, falling to the ground.
Drip, drop go the tears, made without a sound.
Drip, drop goes the time, another sleepless night.
Drip, drop goes the rain, but one more storm of life.

Hmm, I wonder, is the thought, of other things that could be.
Hmm, Hmm, Hmm, I wonder, what will become of me.
Hmm, I wonder, is the thought, what happens when all hope is gone.
Hmm, Hmm, Hmm, I falter, not to chose that song.

What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me? I ask again and again.
Tell me, tell me, preacher boy, is it 'cause of sin?
What's wrong with me?  What's wrong with me?  I look into the mirror.
Everything...., Everything....., is whispered in my ear.

Hold me, kiss me, keep me safe, I whisper to the night.

But.

Drip, drop go the tears, into the silent night.