I am an enigma, scarcely do I know how to express my intricacies & complexities.
Everyone else sees a wall around me, so high, that they cannot scale.
How do I let people know that although I want to be seen, I cannot afford to be seen always.
I like a lot of space. I enjoy drinking in the peace and serenity that nature seems to produce without fail.
Sometimes I feel like water, swaying all over. Other days, I feel like clay, sticky and crude.
Some days I beckon to my inner self to stand up for myself, seeing as I play pretend doormat.
On days like this, I reckon with the me that wants to lay still and let the world go by.
Some call me depressed, others say I speak with wisdom that is from another age.
I have come to accept that this enigma is me, and I am an enigma.