Trick or Treat : Donatello

I am getting really sick and tired of this display. A month ago I'd have said it was over, doomed to failure. And here I am, eating my fifth or fifteenth piece of candy and I really can't tell if this is the beginning of it or the joy before the end.
All I keep hearing is laughter.

I don't even know what that means.
It's on the other side of the door and I can't even tell you who it is.

Where is my life?
I keep asking this question - the one that's equivalent to 'who am I?' and I keep turning up the lower case version of myself.

I don't get that.
I'm such a poser.
People think I'm this. I'm this for awhile and then go for that when that is more appealing.
I think that's why they call 'em costumes.

I went as a Ninja Turtle for Halloween once. I never really thought I was one.
Maybe just that day I really was?
Probably not. My bow staff wasn't the right measurement.

But when the holiday was over, and my mom took the turtle stuff and packed it away, I still knew I was a boy. I was nine and had dinosaur PJs and a green sleeping bag.
I never thought that wasn't cool.

Now, when it's over, I'm just this guy.
Sitting cross-legged on my bed eating old candy.

I know there's more to this man than that.
But it's the not knowing that keeps me here.
All the time.


Some days, I wish I was Donatello.