You can see me for who I am
How I look, Where I go
What I choose to do
But little will you know ‘why’
And that’s who I really am.
Like the many others trying to make sense of the world,
I observe. I feel. I speak.
I’d lend you an ear, I could sit and talk
I might fight you and help you pick up the pieces later
I could rage a storm, but I would prefer peace
We’d share a smile or cry together
I might fancy someone, ignore a couple
You’d know me till the layers I let you see through
And no more.
I am that me
Who you might not see
Neither do I sometimes
Hence, trying to find myself in others
I am the creation of many
The many emotions that reflect
Off my laughter and tears
The waves of love and hate
Together, carrying me across life.
I am not just my words
I am their echo in your eyes;
I am not to be counted within the minutes I spare
Instead, count me in the moments
That remain a part of you
I shall not be restricted to the faces of the accepted and the known
Because as I leap across the limits of
Curiosity and collateral truths
You will safeguard my secrets and sins
I may not be conscious of the path I tread
As long as I see the light
Reflecting off your face unto mine
I am made of glasses
Some painted at the back – mirroring your soul
Refracting your scars, your grin
Trying to make sense of your voice above the din.
I can be the squeaky clean glass of
Your French window heart
My world, your scenery
My life, your storybook.
But only a few get to look.
Glasses break and lives shatter
As equations alter and steps falter
I learn. I seek. I follow.
Only to know better than what I knew yesterday –
To know you and cut my jigsaws accordingly
I am not what you see
I am what you show me to be.