I wanna reinvent meetings,
with the proper composure
and bright sense of humor,
nothing can be awkward
and sad at 24;
and everyone for the rest of
the year will hope for more
meetings, classes and more
get-together meetups
that includes me
but hell no. . .

I am engrossed in all
the events, conversations and
relationships I’ve had
that didn’t end ell.
I am one with
the common strangers,
the hidden prostesters,
the loners,
the all assuming and
over analyzing
disarranged bedroom
clothes’ owner
engaged in a deadlock with
how well things aren’t
doing good.

My playlists are stockpiled
and it is too much for
only two ears to listen alone,
the music seems to be distant
no matter how straightforward
it is for people
because no one ever
speaks of loneliness
and keeping it is
supposed to be the only
way there is.

The contradiction
of the help
I get from others
is that it always has been the help
I didn’t really needed
and as for how
The Wonder Years’
song goes:

“I’m sorry I don’t
laugh at the
right times...”