It Really is Rather Like a Shitty Port-a-loo

define myself? 

oh no thank you …

I wish to 

kindly,

staunchly,

lovingly, 

refuse the offer….

tell me please

why 

should I ever wish to 

define myself 

and in doing so 

contain,

box,

mould and set 

myself into 

something, someone 

who I move away 

from with 

each passing moment

(it’s called evolving)….

surely if I say

I am he, she, this or that,

you will arrive on my doorstep 

with preconceived 

ideologies of 

who, what, when, why and how 

I should be acting 

no thank you 

there are already 

far too many narrow-minded,

blind to reality, 

folk in this world 

I don’t want none

knockin’ on my door late at night

preachin’ at me the many layers 

of how not to live side by side 

and not to be in love with 

all in existence….

oh dear 

not only do 

I find myself yawning 

at the very concept 

of self-definition 

purely out of

boredom’s sake,

I also quite honestly feel 

it is a mix of 

three day old

human faeces 

found at the 

bottom of an 

unkempt port-a-loo….

SHIT! 

yes it’s all shit!

the faeces no longer needed

cast out 

expelled 

SHIT remains – –

we move on 

my goal has never been 

to see the view from 

the bottom of a port-a-loo ….

stale and

stagnant –

– is self definition …

find me 

in the river 

you know the one 

past all that can be defined ….

I shall be 

floating,

formless, 

free… 

jump in 

it is really rather pleasant

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