Can you guess who I am,
if not a human, not a girl?
Can you whisper in my ear,
if not a child, not a pawn?
Can you tell me who I really am?

Would you say you know me,
if I weren’t an artist?
Would you smile and say you love me,
if I told you I was lost?
Would you tell me who I really am?

If I didn’t enjoy color,
walking through the rain,
if simple pleasures didn’t please me,
if I suddenly told you that I didn’t like creating,
promise me that you’d find a way to say,

I am that girl.
The one who’s usually fearless.
Who’s still scared of poison ivy,
The one who thinks she’s strong,
Who tears up during sappy movies

I am that girl,
The one who hates rules,
The one who’d never break them.
Who doesn’t care what people think,
Who still wants her own image.

I’ve recently found
That I’m all I’ve ever known
And that’s good enough for me.
I can’t change,
but I’m not entirely sure that I want to.