I would love to meet all of my selves;
To dine with, and hold clarifying conversations.
I have long been wary of my many personalities,
embraced them, and cherished each one of them.

I wish I could individually meet each one of them.
To hear them introduce themselves;
To hug me and comment on the pleasure of meeting me.
To understand them, as seperate persons outside of me.
To hear their stories,
what groomed who they are;
to hear about their days,
and talk about their feelings;
for them to tell me if I give them enough of me.
Do they even like me, or like being a part of me?

They mould who I am;
They are who I am.
They carry me when I am at my weakest;
They are weak with me, cry with me -
laugh with me, love with me,
and wander with me, at 3:55 am.

Would I enjoy them,
and want them to remain a part of my life?
Are they individuals with stories,
who also need to be heard?
Part of being understood is being heard.

We learn new things about ourselves all the time;
Maybe, that is how we meet our own selves:
In Epiphanies about our identities.

Physical exertion, that exhaustive feeling, pushing this broken body to its limits.

This is true freedom, for a moment all of the clutter unifies to defy annihilation

The whirlwinds of thought, ignite into a ferocious storm of gestalt intellect, racing to the end

Alas, the only goal on this horizon is a graveyard of   discarded memories, each step further until, all is forgotten

Let me see the light

Let me see my worth

Let me feel it in my skin

Let me know it deep, deep, within.

I want to feel joy

I want to feel affixed

Let me see it

Let me feel it

I need it now

Like I have never before

I'm counting days

I'm nearly at this edge

*I beg you, bring it to myself

We think so highly of them
And put em’ on pedestals.
Carrying them with us
like backpacks.
All our life.
pleading for help,
asking
“How does one get there?”
As if we don’t know,
They’re hanging on our shoulders.
Because we let them.

Hate.
What a word.
What a phase.
What a conjunction of emotions that I can’t place.

I wish I could whisper all of them, away.
The traitors and the lies
with mistakes and
goodbyes.

tell them, demand them

to run away from home.
but i,
am only
running
on a personality
that
depends
on
hate.

2 personalities
an outgoing, loud talking teenager
or
a quiet, art loving  young adult.
I could party the night away
or
sit in bed with tea and a movie.
I'm a people person always with something to talk about
or
I'm a writer to tell my notebook everything and keep it inside.
whether It's an introvert or extrovert day, those are my personalities