Leaving texts on unread,
the mistake of replying in your head,
those silly little comments I tend to ignore,
Wasting myself; with my eyes on the phone.

'Why don't you come out tonight,'
they'll ask you when you're broke.
I scrapped a couple dollars last month,
just to find myself drinking all alone at home.

The inner introvert in me.

Thinks it's a waste,
to drink all night with shots to the face.

The outer extrovert in me.

Wouldn't want to seem antisocial,
but would probably order a coke though.

Just to dilute as a heavy chaser,
chasing the nights; while racing away
from yesterday's problems.
We've all got them?

Right?

Or is it just me; sitting on the floor in my
room at night,
Questioning things about life.
Trying to keep focus in the chaos,
telling myself, 'humbleness is being quiet.'

I'm really shy.

To anything knew,
I instinctively know I won't like,
balancing the worries of life,
With the constant reminders of finding myself
a wife.

I'm not that old.

Only to those who point it out,
who've done more at my age,
'I was a year away from marriage,'
           someone once said.

'Well good for them,' you've learnt
your difference; but still expect our lives
to be the same.

But I guess for this night,
I'm the introvert doing in my head,
up late; writing poems on my bed,
Hoping one of them becomes a trend.

But just for tonight,
I'm battling the thoughts in my head.

Again!