Beware the Ides of March

I was born on the 15th of March
The same day Julius Caesar met his death
From the betrayal of his best friend

He and I have that in common, believe it or not
Et tu, Brute?

I’m also a Pisces
So I guess that’s why people call me an empath

Where sadness is despair
And anger is rage
And happiness is euphoria
And to love someone is to have my whole world orbit theirs
And I’d gladly let you shatter my heart into smithereens
As long as you tell me you love me afterwards

I’m also creative, according to my horoscope
I guess that’s why words flow through my veins,

Spilling onto a lonesome page
That yearns for the chance to
Capture beauty through the fresh ink,
Spilling from the pen
Who threatens to expose what’s in my ever beating heart

I’m also five foot two inches tall
Which probably explains why I can never hold my feelings in for too long
No matter how hard I try

And they eventually erupt into a billion
What if’s
And should’ve’s
And could’ve’s
And I wish that never happened’s
Until my face puffs up from oceans of salty tears
Like an allergic reaction to my own despair

My hair is usually the first thing people notice about me and I get lots of compliments on
The way my hair forms a natural, ombré shade where my dark roots blend with faded hair dye

A reminder of the times I hoped cheap dye could cover the darkness that consumed me
Through euphoric highs and noxious lows
That form my bouncy waves so voluminous they hide the many skeletons hidden in my messy closet

My favorite color is purple which is funny because I went to a psychic once and she said that my aura was lavender

That I was full of creativity and emotion
And I was often stuck in my own head
Full of daydreams and fantasies
Though I wasn’t sure what else she said because I’m too stuck in my own head sometimes

Some things you may not guess about me is that I sleep with stuffed animals because they’ve been the only constant comfort throughout my life

And I buy books I’ll take too long to read because they remind me of a time when reading was my only escape

My closet and drawers are coordinated by item and color and each one of my shelves have different categories of trinkets in order of importance but my room is often too messy to ever see the floor

And you can’t tell what my quote unquote aesthetic is by looking at my room because I base my personality on feelings and obsessive fads and contradictions.

And I’m too hard on myself because I dream so big that I’m often too intimidated by my own ambition
And I never think I deserve what I’ve achieved, always focused on the fact that there’s more I’ve yet to conquer
So I put my hand down before I reach for the stars in fear of the unknown

But it seems I’ve let my words spill out of my mouth before the neurons in my brain can catch up
And I’ll spend the next several years wondering if I should have shared less about myself so as to not make you leave me the way most people do

And I never know if it’s because of me or you
Because I often neglect to realize that people go through their own insecurities and not everyone is confrontational the way I am, although I try not to be

And so I accept that yet another person has seen more about me than they’ll ever get to experience
Because some people are only chapters in my story even though my words are on every page
And I often worry about who else’s words will blend with mine when I get to the end

But I have to remind myself to not get that far ahead and to bring myself back to here and now
So I’ll start again and say,
Hello it’s nice to meet you.
Did you know I was born on the Ides of March?