dichotomous clay

it took too long
to realize the schism
between being born
an extrovert
and life beating
introverted instincts
into a dichotomy
where neither feels
confortable at all
leaving me uncertain
of what exactly i am
the anxious clown
or the poetic hermit
dancing in the spotlight
with eyes clenched tight
so no one can see
the broken hidden
in hazel dementia

i long to be held
while flinching from
incidental contact
you can adopt a stray
but can the scars
ever be fully erased
or does this atlas
of accumulated agonies
lead down circular roads
always heading farther
from understanding
a walking contradiction
beautifying ugliness
passionately implacable
suffering condemnations
from hyperbolic need
swimming skinlessly
through an ocean of
passive platitudes
in salt laden whispers
from tears left unshed

One thought on “dichotomous clay

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