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Socially awkward

I thought
I learned
To cope
But nope
I fought
To learn
The way
To act
So I
Could gain
Respect.

It turns out
All along
I was wrong
And my life
Is simply

Elaborate forgery of social skills.
Teetering on the edge
The grassy plateau of internal peace under my feet
But I'm teetering

The grass beneath my feet
Gives way
To rocky downward slopes
The deep ravine of despair
And I am teetering

Peace on one side
Turmoil the other
Hanging in the balance
Which way will I fall?

The scent of truth
Floods the nostrils of my soul
For hanging in the balance
Between peaceful
And depressed
Is not peaceful at all.
Motorcycles rumbling by
As overhead an airplane flies,
Thundering and humming.

Sirens wailing somewhere near.
Mosquitoes whining in your ear.
A grumbling train is coming.
A Kickstart in the morning
Coffee at midday
Latte in the afternoon
An evening soda

Caffeine running in my veins
Dripping from my brow
The scent of it in my nose

It is a being
Symbiotic to my self.
Believe it or not,
I hear it breathing inside,
Compressing my heart
Rhythmically to stay alive.
Without it I'd die.

Dependent but satisfied
The fight was long and drenched in pain,
Your strength was put to test.
You feared the grief would never end,
But now, my dear, come rest.
On sheets of paper, lifeless there they lie.
No more than scribbles to the untrained eye,
Meaningless.
They rest there on that paper, fast asleep.
With joy into the air they want to leap.
Hopefulness.
The silence now is sliced as with a knife,
An instrument has brought them back to life.
Happiness.

— The End —