Who I am?
Why I’m distinct? Is it a sin to be a dissimilarity among others?
Why I’m able to sense the depth of a painful ocean in a fraction of a second,
Why I fear of disclosing my secrets and stories,
Why I feel so much of a pain,
Why I always wish to bring smiles to others, even when I’m traumatized,
Why I need beauty to feed my soul every fucking time?
Why the hell has always been my second home?
Why darkness owns me?
Why I have to make myself feel okay, even when I’m not? Why?

She questioned this to herself every fucking night, and one day her heart whispered very silently ‘ You’re different darling, chill ‘ Everyone can’t handle the fierceness, the rage and of course you.

6 thoughts on “WHO I AM?

  1. I had to draw breath and fight back a tear at the comment “Why I need beauty to feed my soul every fucking time?”. This could have been my mantra, my lament, not even so long ago. I understand it completely. But now I am turning the tables, slowly, and I will do everything in my power to give beauty back to the universe. A poet has one chance in one life to do so, but first we must survive and climb back from the tyranny and torture of needing, wanting, beauty so much…we must come to see that it is already everywhere, afloat, waiting to be captured and unsheathed and that poetry is one mystical key…

    Liked by 1 person

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