"I"

Folder: 
2002

I am only I

Knowing myself

Is beyond reasoning

Feeling you know me

Impossible

I am not sorted

Filed

Stereotyped

I am different

Than anyone

You'll ever meet

I am the jester

I am the blonde

The bitch

The slut

The brain

I am the poet

I am the scientist

The writer

The artist

The pain

And I am none

Of these things

Yet

All of these things

So don't assume

That you know what I'm like

I am honest

More honest than

Anyone I know

Cardinal virtue

Or simply courtesy

I'm not sure

I can hunt

I can fish

I can cook

I can swim

Live alone

And with others

Dependent

Independent

I'm such a hypocrite

And close to psychic

But I'm not sure

I love my friends

They are my world

The worst thing

You can do

Is hurt one of them

Tell me you're right

And I'll prove that you're wrong

Tell me that the square root

Of the isosceles triangle

Is anything but undefined

And I'll certainly

Have something to say

About that

I'm energetic

And mellow

I'm amazing in bed

I can sleep for days

I can talk the talk

Don't walk the walk

I babble

And froth

Scribble

And scratch

Tick

And tock

I'm done even

Trying

To give you a glimpse

Of me

Because it can't be done

No

Not done at all

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 2002. My English teacher, who I wasn't fond of, asked me to write a poem about myself. My sarcasm shines through, no? His comment: "I like it! Cocky and fun!"

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