Finding Me

Finding yourself: in high school, is like: Espagnol for Dummies!
There's never a right way to say the words unless you hear them outloud.
The other day, I found myself. And this is what I came up with. This is me.

I do love vintage music: it doesn't make me deaf
I like to smile at the weird things: because they matter most
To find that I mattered to someone, I had to matter to me first
To have an undoubted assurance: I had to turn over a new leaf.

I'm not a wall flower, I'm a pearl rose: rare, pure, sought after.
I'm not a doormat; I'll walk beside you: you won't walk all over me.
I'm quiet and shy; perhaps antisocial: but when I start speaking; it's an endless babble
I'm not magazine pretty, I'm not anorexic thin. I'm beautiful and that's it.

I cry about everything; happy, sad, scary things.
I love and love vehemently. I hate just the same
I think I laugh too much, sometimes I think too much.
I'm always liking the wrong person because no one's right

I'm "bougie" and "ghetto", I'm super shy, I melt under scrutiny
I'm not perfect. I wouldn't want to be that way.
'Perfection" is a huge vulnerability for it has to be maintained.
I'm me: Patience. Nasieku. Naleng.
And that is it.