Green hair,

eyeliner,

dressed in all black.

Do these make me who I am?

My outward expression

can define but one thing;

what I choose to portray 

may be not what I seem.

Looking strange might be indicative of my odd interests,

black clothes might be indicative of my culture,

but who I really am cannot be found within these things.

Unfiltered I am a contradiction.

A creative being

who finds comfort in solitude and 

rooms without noise,

yet finds the biggest thrill

in a room with friends

and the loudest music

produced by all our own hands.

One who enjoys

looking out of the ordinary,

but cowers in fear 

at the thought of attention.

A shy shrinking violet

who stands for herself

as an individual

even if conflicts threaten to bring her down.