Who am I

If i grow up in a big house
with a landscaped lawn and a maid
to put away my expensive clothes
and i never have to think
about people who don't:
Who am I?

if i live in a quiet street that starts
to become scary like a haunted street
and my aunt has decided
my choices will be FIU or UM,
nurse or doctor:
Who am I?

If i spend my summers at the house,
at the shops, but don't date the boys
who won't stop working out because they don't want
people to call them weak, and have no friends who
swagger down the street like Hollywood stars
Who am I?

If i don't trust anyone
but decide all of the sudden, what
the hell, to tell my big secret anyways
about how the gym boys don't
interest me neither the girls:
Who am I?

Me. I am me. I am not my house,
my clothes, my friends, my aunt.
I am not the shops or the gym.
I am not what people want me to be
or my future. Who am I?
I'm the girl who wrote this poem.