Me

I’ve always wondered what I look like to other people.

Maybe, as I walk the halls,

People only see my mottled grey-black skin and

Slimy black hair that slithers around my body making me as small as possible

Maybe they feel the darkness radiating out of me and see a real life Grinch

Maybe they think I too have an ice heart that just seeps with evil.

Maybe they all silently run in fear and cringe in disgust when I walk by.

Or maybe,

They see sunshine pour out of my eyes when I look at them

Seeing the humanity I wish to save

Maybe they too see the moon’s rays still reflected in my hair and the starry diamonds speckling my skin

Maybe they see the warmth and love I pour out of my heart

And the eternal flame that rests in my soul.

Or maybe,

They only see my river blue eyes

My soft pinkish skin covered sporadically in moles

They see my frizzy brownish hair

And picked off nails

And maybe they don’t use my eyes a window to see the intentions in my soul

Maybe they don’t see me at all

And maybe I mean nothing to no one

Except me.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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