I Am?

I am multifaceted, an imperfect gem,
expose me to the light and see my many flaws,
all wrapped tightly around my DNA
like a Rizla round a badly rolled cigarette.

I am the lifeless soul of the party,
always found hiding in the kitchen
nursing my spirit.

I am the over analyser,
constantly looking hard for hidden meanings
in friend’s words, then replaying conversations
in my head like a scratched CD.

I am the smoker outside,
hiding behind nicotine clouds,
trying to find the courage to step inside.

I am the hoodie wearer on the bus,
whatever the weather I hide
avoiding eye contact,
pretending to be asleep.

“I am a textbook case.“ My GP often says.
“I am getting better.” My Psychiatrist makes me repeat.
I am just taking it all a day at a time.