This Is My Test
This isn’t about emotions.
This is about who I am.
If I saw a dead body,
Would I flinch?
I think I’d walk right past, why be stopped by something as simple as death?
I feel emotions though, I feel.
So I can’t be emotionless.
I cry at movies, so I’m vulnerable.
So I’m human.
Am I special? Even if I’m something I didn’t want to be? Even if I’m not anything I morbidly admired?
I’m just wasted potential.
I could be someone but I don’t like attention.
I want to be alone but I don’t like the feeling.
I want to be emotionless but I feel something.
I want to be something people don’t understand, can’t comprehend, something that makes me unique besides my name.
Perhaps I want to be superior, looking down at the world and all the world can see is them wondering about what I could possibly be.
Not who I am or how I look.
This is about who I am, even if I’m drifting away from that original question.
I’m drifting away into a question of how I feel.
I haven’t cried at a funeral so far,
My family questions if I can shed a tear.
I think it’d be interesting to dissect a frog,
My mother looks at me with concern.
I have a strict sense of justice, the Roman kind,
The dinner table doesn’t welcome
an eye for an eye.
This isn’t about emotions,
Because I don’t want to welcome it.
This is about who I am,
Because I want to be sure when tested.