i.
You’re alone, and you don’t really mind.
It’s quiet here, and peaceful
No one asks too much of you
You stay who you are and you do what you do
And no one’s much the wiser.
You like it this way.

ii.
You've locked yourself in your dorm because you don’t want to deal with people.
“School is easy, people are hard.”
That is the mantra you mentally whisper as you disappear
into novels with characters with much bigger problems
than a lack of friends you don’t remember wanting.
You’re not sure if you like it this way.

iii.
There are people you barely know smiling at you.
It’s sort of like you've known them long,
but you’re sure it’s only been two days.
You know all their names, which is weird,
but they know your name too.
They sort of understand.
You sort of like it this way.

iv.
You’re surrounded on all sides, but it’s nice.
It feels like the music in the air
is racing through your bloodstream.
Is this what it feels to be apart of something?
Greater?
You might like it this way.

v.
It’s too late to be night but too early to be morning.
You talked as though you don’t have
your past locked in your back pocket.
You laugh like this is nothing new,
like you sleepover with “practically strangers” all the time.
But they don’t feel like strangers, not really.
You think you like it this way.

vi.
You’re not sure what’s really happening anymore.
There’s no urge to be alone,
but no urge to constantly be with them,
as though these relationship are symbiotic,
rather than the lecherous addictions
friendships became in high school.
You’re not sure if you trust it this way,
but you like it.