Traits of My Character

Traits of my Character I lie often and without thinking I convinced myself I hate roses because most people love them I give the stray cats outside the Mexican restaurant bits of my enchilada I admire the French I’m sitting on my bedroom's raggedy carpet wondering What bits of my soul I could offer up To make you relate to me Or hate me To feel something About my existence I’m not loyal However I love baby’s breath and Bukowski Do you feel something yet? All the traits of my character The wondrous little bits of humanity I cling to I’ve tried to dissect it for you But my paper remains nearly blank And my pen full of ink Who am I?