paradoxical

I am paradoxical. I say it plainly because there is no cleaner word for me. I hate myself, yet love who I’ve become. I want to be held, but flinch when someone gets too close. I am proud of my scars and ashamed of what made them. I tell myself I’m healing, then reopen the same wounds at night. I want to be seen. I want to disappear. I want honesty, but I hide. I forgive people for things I still can’t forgive in myself. I act strong because I know how fragile I am. I am paradoxical, not in some beautiful, mysterious way, but in the human way. I contradict myself and still expect my heart to make sense of it. Some days I am two voices arguing in the same mirror. you’re ruining everything. no, you survived everything. And somehow, both are true.