Overthinker

 See Adrian, they call me an overthinker,

Because,I notice every subtle details, 

I observe tones and replay voices in my head,

What should have been and what have happened. 

They call me an overthinker, 

Because, I think too much, 

I speak my truth- observed, unobserved. 

I feel too deeply, 

Each sensations! 

Each conversations! 

They call me an overthinker, 

Because, I give too much importance. 

I care too much. 

I am sensitive to every chants that pass by, 

Every echo that remains later. 

They call me an overthinker, 

Because, I feel everything - what I shouldn’t! 

But, Adrian, do you think, I am an overthinker?! 

If I were, I wouldn’t have lost you! 

After losing you, I developed overthinking. 

Now, I look at every hints, every latent clues, 

I read details like an detective, 

I look every patterns, read all expressions,

The tone shifting, the awkwardness in between,

The sweat on the foreheads, 

The blinks of the eyelashes, 

The nervousness and the rage in the voice,

The color palate and the persona they wear.

I study people like an expert.

I know their hidden fears, 

Their intentions.

I can smell their future,

Predict their actions.

I can touch their souls yet remain detached.

I do not offer my depth to everyone. 

They have to dig a canal out to reach my length of depth.

Then you realize, most people are too scared, too weak and too shallow to ever try to reach the deepness. 

They are scared that their own bubble of illusions with which they have wrapped themselves will wither away! 

They are scared that all the masks they've worn will tear away, 

Like fallen leaves, their personas will clash, 

The games will fall away-

A small confrontation with me, a big pound  of glitches they face instantly in seconds passed, 

They run away.

I connect yet I remain aloof- all by myself.

I can read people, 

Their multiple voices and multiple facades they wear. 

All the masks slips aways in front of me.

Their beasts cannot hide from me,

My predatory light catches them.

I read every points,

I take notes and sip my caffeine.

I reach their psyche  where they can not meet.

I burry everything in my heart-

Its a mass graveyard of motives and motions, 

A dumpster of emotions where everybody drops their masks and lay bare open to me, 

Their hidden anxieties, polarities of emotions.

They say I am an overthinker. 

I try to overanalyze, over understand them.

I overpour care, overgive love, over understand them.

Yet,

I observe like a hawk. 

I have become a spider, 

Slowly conspiring web of emotions. 

They say me, I am overtly emotional. 

But, if it were true, would I have lost you?! 

They call me an overthinker. 

But, I was not so. 

Did I ever over give anything to you except withdrawals?! 

Thousands of time I have withdrawn myself from you, your grips.

Your strong muscles couldn’t grasp me.

I have left and fled- hundred times. 

But, you are still standing there. 

Calm and patient.

But, this time not for me.

I have built an enormous castle. 

In you there is a fortress.

A fort of piety and resilience. 



©® Farheen Akter Bhuian Nancy 

Timestamp: 8.53 am, Tagar, Slow morning, Holiday


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