I am not bohemian but bone and feather and braid and patchouli dance on me.

I am not sick but I can't breathe.

I am not writer but every word I catch.

I am not my iphone but I cannot put it down.

I am not anger but I am pissed that I am here.

I am not quenched but my lips won't invite the water in.

I am not storyteller but I won't stop talking.

I am not colorful but I shine golden.

I am not desire but every cell of my spirit and skin burn with feeling.