i am overkill

and i know my other selves better.

how your prejudice concludes who i am

is how i am otherwise in the other wiser worlds.

not here for sure.

this spot is a whirlpool and i am no swimmer.

a glider, maybe.

i mirror any human’s weaknesses.

for being that common, i am not easy to relish.

ordinary is not arbitrary.

it was a choice,

for my life quest is to understand how the human brain works

and it’s stupendous ability to twist,

mess up,

and handle regret.

how many of these brains dare

to tame themselves.

because mine is all over the place and cannot

function without the dictates of outer elements.

i am annoying.

nice, when i want to be, and annoying at it.

pessimism is my mother tongue,

juvenile is my hometown.

i rush at the gate to leave,

i forget i am in chains.

i cannot be aivan if i would not sound fine one minute

and idealist, the next.

i wouldn’t be her if i don’t magnify the negative

and spend my spirits on looking for remedy

because visual artists are prone to fixing,

or say, altering.

even the ones without void.

these eyes wouldn’t be mine if i weren’t seeing glitches.

the smallest of them.

on moments i don’t see the ugly or the catch

are the times when someone shuts my eyes for me,

or at least cover them.

when someone dares to kiss me before i even get to talk.

when i am halted by the touch of gentle hands that mean to care.

that mean to not condemn but to pacify the anxiety in me,

and knows that it is an utterly no rocket science to hug.

i don’t need arms to carry.

i just need to feel them around me.

i am hard to love because i am not a girl next door

or that super independent woman that can feed

a man’s bottomless pit.

my spirituality is the only thing that makes me sane

and now i look foolish for the same reason.

it is taken against me, that i have this faith

that chooses to see beyond but sticks to the basics.

people, friends, family and lovers have turned their back on me

because i am not being someone they expect.

i speak of reform and God while i do not walk the talk.

i know i have so much room for change

but no one would ever dare share that room with me.

i do not claim to be that needy

but there will be random hours in a day

where i will miss or want the same person who made me feel loved.

i will try to live on, that i can promise, to anyone who bothers

to be accountable for my well-being.

knowing myself better,

i am loved by a God

who, though i deny at times

always will save me if ever i fall again

or if i drown in too much happiness.