Blurring Time

Friday night, drinking boxed wine Alone in my apartment, blurring time The texture of air is stale as I stare In distress at this body of mine Catastrophic soft symphony Rigid dichotomy, complex identity It's not as simple as either or I am both and I'm more Most of all, I'm unsure I think I've become the sort of someone Who scared me stiff when I was young Soft as a feather, tough like worn leather Who am I under the Saturday sun? Maleficent social construct If it is all made up Why do I give a fuck? I don't want to define myself by Who I'm not and I'm trying This is my battle cry Friday night, drinking boxed wine Alone in my apartment, blurring time