Lukewarm drink.

Mediocre, dull and plain,

Faded, 

Like the color of your jeans,

With a heart, buried in the sand, pumping pain, 

and lost in wild dreams.

With a mind full of tangles and thoughts, 

Knotted, 

In millions of ties. 

With a soul yearning for the space, 

And a body rooted in the ground. 

I am the words I didn't mean,
and the mistakes I didn't apologize for, 

a combination of what I was and what I'm trying to be,
I am what I feel, and who I fell for. 

I am what I working so hard to achieve, 

And what I'm hoping for. 

I am my constant sadness, 

and my temporary happiness,
I'm the thoughts that I feed in my head,
and the things I keep to myself.  

I am a mixture of extremes,
that don't result in balance or equilibrium,
nor it gives inner peace.

I am the secrets I hide, 

and my honesty.
I'm the kindness I vouch for the world,
as must as my indifference,

the rigidness of my heart and the softness of my skin,
the nights I spend crying,
and the days I chase the sun.

I'm my choices and actions, 

mu vices and virtues,
and intentions,

I am not what I want to be, 

and I'm not what anyone wants,

I can't quite define myself,
because I'm seasons,
of content and malcontent.

I guess this makes me easier to understand,
not as complicated as I think I am. 

and I decided long ago,

to hide away, my true self along with my heart,

Because to love is to give people the power to hurt you, 

to expose your true colors for people with painting brushes.
who claim that they did what's best for you, even if it's against your will.

And I can't take any of it anymore. 

I won't allow it to happen once more.