Who am I?

 
Am I the make-up-less face?
Am I the Birkenstocks, the cords,
Am I the knitted socks I wear?
Am I a greenie?
 
My Mum doesn't pick out my clothes anymore,
Doesn't choose what I'm going to wear,
Doesn't do my hair,
Leaves those decisions up to me.
 
Am I the black nailpolish?
Am I the leather pants, the black outfits,
Am I the biker boots I wear?
Am I a goth?
 
The stores with winter and summer collections
Decide what I can buy.
The people around me
Will judge my decisions.
 
Am I the sparkly lipgloss?
Am I the pink tracksuit, the highheels,
Am I the flowerprints I wear?
Am I a girl?
 
Hairdressers, sales clerks, peers...
Everybody seems to know what suits me,
Seems to know me,
While I don't know myself.
 
Am I the short haircut?
Am I the sweatpants, the baggy jumper,
Am I the bra I might not wear?
Am I a boy?
 
Short hair, long hair,
Fringe, bob, curls,
Straight hair, dyed hair...
How am I supposed to know?
 
Am I the cute hairbands?
Am I the dungarees, the cozy slippers,
Am I the Disney PJs I wear?
Am I a kid?
 
My body's changing.
My shirts and pants don't fit anymore.
My hips are getting larger.
I don't recognize myself anymore.
 
Am I the red lipstick?
Am I the lacy lingerie, the blouses,
Am I the evening dresses I wear?
Am I a woman?
 
Who am I?
 
 

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