Cold and hot simultaneously–an ice cube melting in the pink palm of your hand. Can you handle me?
When I’m quiet on the outside, but screaming on the inside, can you hear me?
Dull and sharp simultaneously–age old shears you found out back in the shed. Can you wield me?
When I’m hiding in plain view, can you see me?
I’m afraid you don’t know me at all.
I’m afraid I’ll always have to explain myself.
I’m afraid you’ll figure me out…