Spitfire

I argue a lot
And I guess it's because
I'm small and want
My voice to be heard,
Although I hate attention.

Condescension, my enemy
Point proven, my friend—
Infernal desire to always
Be correct.

Overestimated, under-appreciated
Tiny, strong.
Hotheaded spitfire—
Seeking words of affirmation
Asserting dominance
Trying to make my views known.

Easy to rile me up
Though I'm rarely looking for a fight
I seem to always be on the edge
Questioning everything 
Introspecting
Watching what you say has no fruition
I will dissect it end from end.

And I want to be taken seriously,
Though often I am not very serious.
People believe me when I'm joking,
They think I lie when I tell the truth.
Why is that? It's backwards. Twisted.
Inside out.
I want to be taken seriously,
I'm serious. It makes me furious.

I argue a lot. 
And I think it's because
I'm small, trying to find my niche
All the while asserting dominance.