I am.

 

To be nervous or timid among a company of other people,

That is the literal and logical meaning of being shy.

Something not a lot many people can understand,

But I have the ability to carve out words like sculptures,

And the ability to build up metaphors like timeless structures.

 

I am a boy.

Susceptible to self doubt and anxiety,

To be used by people who are coy,

And that in turn makes me more fearful of people.

 

I am not your usual guy.

I don’t just go up to people to talk to them.

I’ll be standing away from the rush,

Quietly observing and reading their minds.

 

I take a step forward and two steps back.

I think a yes once and reason with negligence twice.

I feel like I’m being watched by someone,

I feel like the dementors are constantly sucking out my confidence.

 

The only place where I can be who I am is my home.

But also among my friends who I dearly cherish.

As I write this I feel I’m unlocking the cage where a young phoenix resides.

People call me dark, they call me ice cold, because I seem to them, to be judgemental.

What irony!

 

My mind is like a war going on since the beginning of time,

And may end only when the battlefield dies.

As I write this piece, I judge myself so hard,

Im afraid that when I read this it will penetrate my body like a thousand shards.

 

I feel the pressure to be a boy slowly curb my heart.

But my weakness is my strength that I can’t thwart.

I know people better than they know me.

I know how to act tough, be cold and dark and judgemental.

 

I am an actor.

For if I have to stand on a stage,

I stand on the stage and act out my lie.

I laugh, I cry, I act a crazy lie.

For that is when I can be someone else, someone that I can’t possibly be.

 

I sing.

I sing my heart out.

For when I sing, I roar like the lion, I wail like a banshee,

I vibrate like a violin, I make them all quiet to hear me.

 

I am a boy.

I am confident and I am shy.

I am strong only when I show it off.

And I show it off only when I need it.

 

I am a human.

I have the right to be who I want to be.

I can be jolly like the daffodils or sorrowful like someone’s past.

I can be positive like a child’s aspirations or gloomy like the monsoon clouds.

 

For I am.