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.