Why does it have to be like this?
Am I faulty? Amiss?
Are there people like me in this abyss?
Do they still exist?
Maybe they can assist.
What do they look like?
Are they happy?
Or unhappy?
Are they bold or afraid?
Afraid of both light and darkness?
Are they confident or chagrined?
Am a delicate flower,
too delicate to touch.
A colorful flower.
But one that repels.
A flower too bright.
Too bright to render one blind.
No one can stand such light.
None can hold me. Touch me.
It is too big a risk.
Should i camouflage?
For survival?
For happiness?
How do I deceive shame?
Who will love me?
A weirdo?
Am i too old yet too young?
Why me?
©awanjo
A