I am not naive enough
to believe that all people have
one constant, fixed personality.
People are more changeable
than the seasons, the tides and the weather –
it is all a part of human nature.
What I struggle with
is homogenising the person I know
with the person everyone else sees,
when they are as far apart
as I am from my responsibilities
or mental stability.
The person I know is kind and gentle and warm,
the human embodiment of April 25th.
The person others see
is abrasive and argumentative –
more harsh and severe than a winter storm
in an already frozen wasteland.
But I am stubborn,
and I wrapped myself up in the spring leaves
that grew from your words
and accepted the comfort
until I realised too late
that they were nettles and poison ivy
and I was trapped and my skin was blistering.
I desperately want to believe that
people are good at heart,
but then I look in the mirror
and I know people are not.