“Who am I?” I mutter to myself, beginning my ritual navel-gazing as I define my identity in a constant teenage toil.
I am not a mythical beast, nor one long extinct; I am not weak or suffering from penis envy.
Can I define myself?
I AM WOMAN- HEAR ME ROAR.
I am atoms and chemical reactions.
I am Australian
A cascade of imperfections
I am a complex human being who deserves bodily integrity.
Maybe starting from the basics will help me build a house/ fortress/ mystical faerie castle representing myself.