The Questions

It's the questions that make me fuzzy. I decide to write, to put ideas down, let them rest in one spot. But I always start with "who am I?" Can I just keep asking that question at the start of every attempt to take a seat and write what comes? Maybe I feel the answer is too boring? Maybe I just can't seem to figure out the answer? I run from surety to utter confusion. My mind stands firm for a moment. I have a thought, a single answer, an idea that seems completely my own. But its all fog when I reach to hold long enough to let my fingers give them a spot on paper (or a blog or whatnot?) Am I meant to be elusive? Can I just be enough for me without a chance to be elucidated? My hands have no gift for art. The colors, the 3 dimensional space that is within that I wish to speak has no connection to the outer. Would anyone care to look anyway? Am I not singlehandedly worth it? With no audience, does my expression bear expressing?