Who am I when I'm yelling?
My mother, alone for too long.
Who am I when we're fighting?
My brother, headstrong and loud.
Who am I when we're at the table?
My father, thoughtful and distant.
Who am I when you say those things?
My best friend, cringing and waiting for a hero.
Who am I when we make love?
The movie star I idolized at seventeen, sexy.
But when am I me?
Me, the composite of those around me?
When we're laughing about nothing, enjoying what we've become.
I'm me, just me.