Speaks Volumes

Do you ever wonder who you are?

It’s an important thing to know.

It kinda affects everything.

I tell my friends I’m a cat,

Or a kitten,

With all the grace and dignity of one

Because I might fly about the room

In a glorious waltz one moment

But then two days later I trip over my own paws and I fall

Only to roll and leap back up again,

Frazzled and disoriented but I kinda look like I know what I’m doing!

But lately,

I’ve realized I’m more than a cat.

Because I tell a select few near everything,

But I tell everyone something,

And something different.

To the guy who sat next to me in Politics 101 and on the plane to school after spring break,

I shared how I’ve always hated flying over water.

I love water,

I am a lifeguard after all,

But the thought of plunging into water trapped in this death machine makes me fear drowning.

And I’m not afraid of all the little moments I can’t remember because I think the Silence are after me.

It’s because I fear I’m losing my mind.

Batman is the only one I tell dirty jokes to,

And they’re not even dirty enough for her.

She’s also the only one I’d really talk fashion to

And I can’t believe I don’t call her Batman more often.

And the young man who became one of my best friends in two days by giving me a hug when he noticed I was hurting,

I didn’t tell him I hate to be touched 95% of the time

Because he’s one of two people who walked with me when I lost my best friend,

And I didn’t even tell him I lost the friend by breaking up with him.

So while I may be a cat,

I am also a poem.

I say so little

But that little speaks volumes

And lines that seem to be thrown away leave me completely open

And those poems I write in the back of my French notes tell me who I am.

God help me,

Because sometimes I hate her.

God help me,

Because like a poem,

She’s beautiful.