#WildFlowersUnscripted I Am Who I Am (Poem)

It's the second month of 2014, but this is very special. First this is Black History Month, where the achievements of people who look like me are celebrated. Second, there's a new writing challenge going on and it starts today. It's helped by @fromawildflower and @tyunscripted.

Day One's theme is About Me (creatively done collage, poem, etc.). I wrote the following poem a while ago. It was how I felt at the time of writing it and what I continue to struggle with on a daily basis. It's all about me just being myself. Enjoy!

I Am Who I Am 

I am who I am. Without a doubt, when least expected, when I'm most at ease, I'm caught off guard, my personality just seeps out. I can't stop it. It's overpowering. That laugh that threatens to form in the middle of the workday, I try to muffle it. It forms anyway, sounds something like a sneeze. People look at me. They don't know. The day a former friend said something really funny is still fresh in my mind. They think I'm weird. But I am who I am.

Without a doubt when least expected my hormones are challenged and my personality seeps out. His voice, deep and sensual and caring, is amazing. His touch, gentle enough but magnificently rough, is just right. 'Nooooo.' He thinks I'm scared. Never ready.
"Go down."
" Lay down."
"Get on top."
"Relax."
He's a sexual intellectual and somewhat addicted to the game. I'm afraid there's a man that's better. But when the passion comes the marks are deep. His skin is slightly red. My fingernails went too deep. The words, the actions, now they're stuck in both of our minds. But I'm not sure he's meant for me. So those special nights we'll never speak of. Instead I run. I am who I am.
Without a doubt when least expected something out of the ordinary happens and my personality seeps out. Panic attacks. Hyperventilating. I don't know if I can breathe anymore. I can't take it. The day I lost my keys related back to the childhood experiences of losing a pen. I was yelled at. I was teased for overreacting about being yelled at. I cover my ears, but the memories are still there. Just a car accident. It happens to everyone. But me, I panic. Can't think. Was it my fault? It's always my fault. So I panic. Beat myself up. Another failure.
"Get Over It"
Someone speaks. They don't understand, but their words I hold onto. Cop sirens behind me. A ticket in my future. Do I panic? Was it my fault? "It happens to everyone." I'm at peace. Without a doubt when least expected something out of the ordinary happens and my personality seeps out. I am who I am and I'm getting better at accepting it.