Who am I?
What’s my best quality, my worst? These questions are the hardest for me to answer. I feel like I grow every single day and am forever changing. I can never pin my emotions, my personality, or my traits down to a category.
So, I just call myself a paradox:
She describes herself as a paradox, a one woman show
She jumps too fast and trusts entirely too slow
At night she deadbolts all her doors just to sleep with an open window
She’s felt the highest of highs, but she’s lived the lowest of lows
Trust her when she says, she’s far too complicated for you to ever really know
She’s murdered love just so she can feel it re-grow
She’s hated herself, but she’d be damned to ever let that show
There’s more to her than meets the eye, she’s more intricate than you could know
You may think she’s an angel; but look closer and you’ll see the stolen halo
She has rinsed her filthy hands of a million sins
Then she turns around just to do them all over again.
Some days she lays paralysed by her damn emotions
While others she just mindlessly goes through the motions
You see her for her smile and careless cackle
Completely clueless to all the demons she’s battled
When love is involved she will always sacrifice,
But as soon as you burn that girl she turns cold as ice
She’s not so sure what religion relates to her power above
But she does know they preach an all-inclusive kind of love
She’s not a simple book you can judge by the cover
There’s more to her than even she has discovered
She’s a paradox, a whimsical mystery
Underestimate a girl like that and she will make you history.
Author: Emily Cutshaw
Editor: Lieselle Davidson
Copy Editor: Sara Kärpänen