Me

I am messed and broken;

I am afraid of reality;

I hold on to impossible dreams

And use them as my survival mechanism;

I totally rely on the flutters of butterflies in my gut;

Question me not why!

I can neither reason out my actions

Nor justify them under defined social labels;

Self-sabotage is my whimsical strategy;

As a conscious choice,

I harm not a twig for my personal benefits.

I am fine to get bruised all over

By fetching a wild bitter forbidden fruit

Rather than enjoy the sweet fruits given on a platter…

So leave me be how stupid you find me!