Changes will continue, but I'll never give in to The woman that you've assumed me to be. Thought that I had seen you, Could feel me beneath you, Beneath a distant longing To arrive. There'll be no more waiting, No sorrowful blaming. I'm sitting right where I've wanted to be. I am and I am not These petals pressed into These pages unnumbered. I am and I am not. But then I remember. And when I remember, It seems that I become more of what I remember. Which is not necessarily insanely related Or jaded or tainted by bleak memory. In fact I'm enjoying The lifting of morning, These petals intended for giving release.