Who I Am

and Who I Show To the World

are mountains,

oceans,

countries,

planets,

dimensions

apart.

 

It’s weird, really.

 

I’m a breathing,

walking,

talking

human just like everyone else,

 

but

 

I look at Who I Am and think

Oh.

No.

Don’t show that.

Don’t say that.

No one would care.

You’ll get made fun of.

Stop.

 

And why?

 

Am I afraid to accept myself for the person I Am

rather than the Person Society Wants Me To Be?

Am I afraid of the possible Rejection by my peers

who look down on those different from the usual and

Praise those who conform to their standards?

 

Is it fear?

Do I just not care? Maybe.

 

Or maybe the problem is that I’ve been told

Who I Am

and How I Feel

and How I Should React

and What I’m Good At

and What I’m Bad At

and Who I Should Befriend

and Who I Should Date

and Every Other Little Thing That Makes Up Who I Am

since the moment I was born.

 

My parents involvement decides on

my criminal record,

my grades,

my emotional intelligence,

my personality,

my life.

My friends tell me

what’s cool and what’s not,

who’s cool and who’s not,

who I should date and who I’m crazy to like,

what subjects I excel in and which I don’t.

 

Who are they?

Are they me?

Or am I them and they’re projections from my mind tricking me into thinking I’m worthless?

How do they know Who I Am?

 

I like anime.

I like One Direction and Bring Me the Horizon.

I like girls. And boys.

(Apparently I’m “confused”.)

(I know I’m not “confused”.)

I like reading but have no time.

I hate taking time to sleep and eat,

but love sleeping and food.

I fall asleep during tests because I stay up too late.

I love history and english.

I love to talk.

I make witty comments inside my head that my best friend used to laugh at.

I’m a good kid overall.

 

I don’t trust people.

I can’t.

I think dark thoughts, thoughts I can’t share

for if I did then they’d be acknowledged

and then I’d know they’re real.

 

I hide behind the daily mask

because

I don’t want to show the last precious secrets I have left.

The last things I can hold dear to my heart

even though they have little to no

sentimental value.

It’s weird,

some may call it dumb.

But I’m All I Have Left To Count On.