Poetry

Me

He asked me to tell him “about myself”,

I barely had an answer.

See my mouth was dry and voice gone, completely silent,

Silent, not because I did not know myself,

Silent not because of rejection, lack of acceptance of my true self.

I was silent, for the words are to great to “describe” who I am.

Anxiety has been part of my daily bread,

Anxiety has become my pillar of strength,

Triggering the need to seek within my soul, embracing every weakness, every flaw I was told I have.

Flaw; a mark, a blemish, an imperfection which marks a substance or an object/ a fault, a weakness in one’s character

The very marks, weakness and faults that make us imperfectly perfect,

that makes the ordinary extra- ordinary.

So when he asks, “tell me about yourself”

These very words are released from my mouth, with a gleeful smile; “no words are enough to embody my reflection nor enough make you grasp every inch of my being. I am Me”

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