I Seem To Be.....

by Diya

I seem to be
Excited, happy, perfect.
But I'm not.
My best friends don't even know.
I don't have the guts to tell them
That I'm not stupid. That I have feelings.
And thoughts.

I seem to be
Shallow, stupid, thoughtless.
But I'm not.
I wasn't born a writer,
I was born
A thinker.

I seem to be
Childlike, annoying and stupid.
Careless and innocent.
I don't know, nor do I care.
Lost in a dreamland
Far away.
My life is simple.
And perfect.
Friends envy me for how simple
My life seems to be.
How I'm easy to understand.
But its not.
I'm not.
They are the ones lost in delusion.
They don't know a thing
About me.

I really am
That rope tied in knots.
A thinker.
A feeler.
One who yearns to understand.
Understand everything.
One who spends time thinking
About everything.
Thing that others throw off as pointless.
But still, I don't understand

I really am
One confused by her own words,
Imperfect,
Irritated.
One who analyzes
Every
Little
Word.
One who wants to learn
Wants to know
Wants to understand.

I sometimes think:
What if I'm just a character in a story
A sad story.
A confusing story.
That emotional wreck who hides what she feels.
My life is a rope tied in knots.

I really am
Unexpressive.
Always keeping my thoughts to myself
Despite what others think.
They think I share every detail of my life,
They think I'm talkative,
Shallow.
They think I tell them everything.
Through writing or words.
They think I don't care.
But I do.
I really do.
I care about everything.
I think about everything.

I really am
Caught in a net
Of truthful lies
And lying truths.
And guilt.
That girl being strangled, suffocated.
Squeezed.
By her unspoken words.
Unvoiced thoughts
And feelings.

Because I really wasn't born a talker or a writer.
I was born a feeler.
I was born a thinker.
And, in the end,
They don't know a thing about me.