The Paradox Within

I am the warrior, the worrier,

I am the teacher, the student,

I am the laughter, I am the tears, 

The love that heals, the pain that sears.

I am a whisper, I am a scream, 

I am a paradox, forever changing.

I am the whisper in the wind, 

The echo in the canyon, the silence between.

I am the desert, barren and wide, 

A landscape harsh, yet beauty's pride.

A scorching sun, a starry night, 

A traveler's quest, a mystic's sight.

I am the universe, infinite and grand, 

A wondrous creation, a cosmic chain.

A bearer of wisdom, a seeker of truth.

I am the optimist, the pessimist, 

A believer in hope, a skeptic of dreams.

I am the lover, the fighter,

I am the giver, the taker,

A generous spirit, a needy heart.

I am the old soul, the young spirit,

A timeless being, a fleeting moment.

A wandering soul on unstable ground.

I wear my heart on my sleeve, 

But keep my deepest fears hidden.

I'm a healer, yet I'm broken,

A mending heart, a shattered soul.

A blessing and a curse.

In my heart, there is a universe, 

Endless, boundless, and free.

In my soul, there is a struggle,

Constant, fierce, and unyielding.

I am the traveler, the homebody,

An adventurer at heart, a creature of comfort.

I am the voice of reason, the whisper of doubt,

My mind, a battlefield of light and dark,

A spark of genius, a fading mark.

I preach of self-love, Yet I hate myself.

I tell you to love your body, 

As I starve and punish mine.

I know the danger of comparison, 

But can't help but measure myself against others.

I'll tell you to chase your dreams, 

But mine are buried deep within. 

I want to be a good mother, 

But I don’t know what that is, 

I want my daughter to be proud of me,

But have accomplished nothing.

I want to be everything she needs, 

Yet I'm nothing but my own fears.

I carry the weight of the world, 

But I am as light as a feather.

I want to be the hero of my own story,

Yet I am often the villain.

I'm a creator, yet I'm a destroyer,

A builder of dreams, a wrecker of havoc.

I am the writer, weaving words, 

Yet stumble over simple speech.

I am the singer, full of song,

But choked by melodies I can't reach.

I am the artist, full of vision, 

But blinded by the colours l've seen.

I am the sum of all my parts, 

A mosaic of my experiences.

I am the past, the present, and the future, rolled into one.

I am a work in progress, a masterpiece in the making.

I am the paradox, the contradiction, 

An open book with pages missing.

A walking enigma, a living contradiction.

I am the universe, the atom,

The everything, the nothing, the alone.