I expect to be treated like an equal
When I have nothing to contribute
I am a well of interesting information
That dries up in the middle of inclusion

What do I do with my hands
Except inhale anxiety relief
Always dissecting the surrounding voices
That somehow begin to exclude me

Two by two breaking off into stories
Bared witness to the unbearable mess
I had something to say minutes ago
My burning lungs were left behind in distress

I don't know how to be me anymore
Broken so long the pieces have scattered
They fly through the gusty winds of my mind
Smiling through conversations that don't matter

I watch everyone move on with their lives
As I stand alone in crowded space
I reflect on how I could be better
Quietly searching for the right words to say