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Description
I am the awkward girl who is like a pair of un-matching socks;
One carmine and the other a deep lime green
    --"Classified as peculiar"

and yet somehow,
I fancy myself bold
in all my selfless concern

when in actuality

I am a life-size ball of insecurities
and nervousness;
the type of anxiety that would be felt
if using a beehive as a piñata

    I am the lost

    The damned

    An unpatented byproduct

the kind of girl who can sit in a crowded room
and feel utterly alone with only
the lack of their own significance
keeping them company;

    --a bitter concoction of percolating jealousy
spiked with a hearty dose of humility

even as,

a not so distant part of me somehow understands
that I spend too much time analyzing granule specks
found in floor tiles and wall panels;
looking for correlations as if life is one big ink-blot

or perhaps,

I am subconsciously searching
for the visage of some savior whom I would not recognize,
giving me one more thing to set on my mental bookcase
beside a do-it-yourself guide to figurative suicide

    -- an alternative to the literal ever since it turned into a fad;
adding to the rising famine of martyrs

nonetheless,
I find myself disappointingly reminded
each passing year how I am
unable to foresee life's purpose
within autumn's hailstorm of leaves
which makes me wonder if I should switch to
teabags and artificial sugar in order to
finally douse the smoldering embers
created from the friction of my teeth

but, perhaps
when it comes down to it,
I'm merely a simple resultant
comprising of flamboyant quirks
and nauseating fluorescents
which undoubtedly
highlight some kind of mental sickness;
a coat of many colors:
    --the lead shawl of the past

            Then again, who knows?

Description
I am the awkward girl who is like a pair of un-matching socks;
One carmine and the other a deep lime green
    --"Classified as peculiar"

and yet somehow,
I fancy myself bold
in all my selfless concern

when in actuality

I am a life-size ball of insecurities
and nervousness;
the type of anxiety that would be felt
if using a beehive as a piñata

    I am the lost

    The damned

    An unpatented byproduct

the kind of girl who can sit in a crowded room
and feel utterly alone with only
the lack of their own significance
keeping them company;

    --a bitter concoction of percolating jealousy
spiked with a hearty dose of humility

even as,

a not so distant part of me somehow understands
that I spend too much time analyzing granule specks
found in floor tiles and wall panels;
looking for correlations as if life is one big ink-blot

or perhaps,

I am subconsciously searching
for the visage of some savior whom I would not recognize,
giving me one more thing to set on my mental bookcase
beside a do-it-yourself guide to figurative suicide

    -- an alternative to the literal ever since it turned into a fad;
adding to the rising famine of martyrs

nonetheless,
I find myself disappointingly reminded
each passing year how I am
unable to foresee life's purpose
within autumn's hailstorm of leaves
which makes me wonder if I should switch to
teabags and artificial sugar in order to
finally douse the smoldering embers
created from the friction of my teeth

but, perhaps
when it comes down to it,
I'm merely a simple resultant
comprising of flamboyant quirks
and nauseating fluorescents
which undoubtedly
highlight some kind of mental sickness;
a coat of many colors:
    --the lead shawl of the past

            Then again, who knows?