One day you may come to realize
I am smarter than you think
I think and feel more
than you seem to give credit for
I’m educated in the madness
that seems to matter
yet I don’t confess to care
That seems to boggle your senses
since it doesn’t fit neatly
into your description of me
You prefer your answers labeled
your people shelved
and understood
but I have always lived
in the margins
where contradiction
breathes freely
where knowing and indifference
can share the same skin
and certainty is often
the least honest thing
in the room
I notice more
than I say
carry more
than I show
like smooth stones
inside a coat pocket
gathered one by one
along forgotten roads
and keep entire worlds folded
behind a casual smile
You mistake silence
for absence
like rain ticking
against window glass
detachment
for ignorance
and restraint
for a lack of depth
when in truth
I learned long ago
that not every thought
requires a witness
and not every truth
needs defending
Perhaps what unsettles you
is not that I am difficult
to define
but that I refuse
to become smaller
for the comfort
of your understanding
So one day
you may come to realize
the person you thought
you understood
was never hiding at all
you were simply searching
for me
in places
I have never lived.
