Unknowable

I am depth,

I am intelligence,

I am eccentricity.

I am the artist,

the writer,

the creative who can find meaning in anything and cannot live without self-expression.

I am the one who can fathom none other than facts,

who can take joy in none other than the improbable, the impossible.

I am an old soul, I am a free spirit,

I am everything in between.

I am the quiet one who revels in silence and solitude, yet the one who cries because I am alone.

I am the bubbly one who practically takes flight when I am happy, yet the one who rarely takes true joy in anything.

I am quiet, intellectual, stoic,

yet every emotion is painful as being stabbed with a knife.

I care for people,

yet their predicaments mean nothing to me.

I fear I won’t measure up,

yet I am probably one of the smartest people in the room.

I am everything, and nothing.

I am a paradox.

I am unknowable.