Sup3rnality

I don't fancy myself a good poet, but when I do wax lyrical, it's from the heart.

My heart is in constant turmoil. Sometimes I cannot tell one emotion from the other. Which to feel, which to keep? This one and that. The left or the right.

Questions. There are too much to count. Yet here they come. More and more. Every breath I take, new life is blown into them.

I am a walking contradiction. I remember saying this many years ago; remember writing, that is. Has it been 10 years? No, more. And yet this many years on, I still feel they hold true.

I do not know how to wear my heart on my sleeve. I feel, I do not show. Not when I can help it, that is. The emotions that play across the canvas of my face belies the rumblings underneath.

I cannot describe in words the depth of storm in me, it's easier to hide behind smiles.

Here's one right now. And another. Can you tell which one's the genuine smile of happiness? I'll give you a clue: They're all happy but slightly tainted with a hint of despair.