I’m Me

Usually, I'm too analytical

Always critical

Of who I am, who I used to be

Talking for hours inside my head

Wondering what people would say when I'm dead

What would be my eulogy?

They never understood it:

I'm just me. 

I used to be:

Happy, strange, and loud

Hearing the voices, feeling the sounds

Didn't care I had no friends, 

I talked to the insects. 

Feeling everything in sensations

Living wildly, new creations

Never really cared for grades

School wasn't my forte.

The world sees me as:

Strange, says weird things sometimes

Decides to be loud at times. 

Sometimes, Doesn't talk at all. That's fine.

Acts stupid, (is she stupid?) 

Still single (Where are you, Cupid?)

Always political

So analytical

I don't want to be critical

But she's hypocritical.

I am:

Who I'm deciding to be. 

I don't like my personality

I'm too impulsive, never carefree

Filling my mind with worry

Sometimes it's so dark that I can't see

I change like a tree changes leaves

Every year, I bud and bloom a new me

Have some friends who care, really

Don't pin me down, don't question, see

I'm not who I used to be, 

One thing's for sure, though:

I'm 

Just

Me.