I am a wall of paradoxes.
Hard, brittle, stubborn, and unwavering.
I rail against this self-inflicted mortar
But I am my own dragon-guarded keep.
I want to call out to you,
I wonder if you'd be my knight.
But I do not like playing the damsel in distress,
I play the tower.
I am a heap of conundrums.
Mushy, hazy, illogical, and unending.
I trap myself in my muddled desires
But I am my own sphinx.
I want to explain myself to you,
I wonder if you'd crack my code.
But I do not want to come out from behind my riddle stone,
I cling to this rock of ages.
I am a pool of doubt.
Fluid, heavy, reflective and uninterrupted.
I float in muddy, uncertain waters.
But I am my own Loch Ness monster.
I want to trust you,
I wonder if you'd stay.
But I do not know if you'll find me an ugly beast,
I am heavily scarred.
I am a winter of worry.
Cold, harsh, encompassing and unyielding.
I wade through banks of unwanted potential,
But I am my own abominable snowman.
I want you to thaw me,
I wonder if you could make me spring.
But I do not know if my bloom would please you,
I am an odd sort of flower.