Analytical and critical,
with a poet’s musing mind.
Aware to one’s perception,
though in social settings, blind.

Prone to feeling deeply,
while observed as being dead.
Composing our composure
to conceal what’s in our head.

Possessing youthful wonderment,
when in spurts out bursts our glee.
Not knowing when to open up,
though claiming there’s a key.

Prizing human kindness,
to the point our knees go weak.
Aware of how to walk a pen
while staggering to speak.

Know the act of being friendly,
though our friendlessness is real.
Would die for total strangers,
who assume our skin is steel.

Wishing to be understood,
while wanting our own space.
A conundrum in a cortex,
both an acid and a base.

Conservative with compliments,
to the point we’re drawn with horn.
Knowing of the Myers-Briggs,
we are a unicorn.

-Amy Struthers

Image by: Rohan Makhecha