Being INFJ – Poetry

Being INFJ

My still face in the mirror, I see you.
Small quirky smile, Mona Lisa secrets.
Hallowed eyes, unbrushed hair, not pretty today.
But inside, tumultuous.
Inside, everything beautiful,
kaleidoscopically captivating.

Human words pour over me,
your sentences are waves across my skin.
Images tumble faster than I can describe.
Patterns click into place, perfection,
fractals and isotopic equations.
Gooseflesh rippling with empathy.

I cannot survive being me, so
I will help you survive being you.

– Stephanie Lowrie

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