My composure is just illusion.
A mastery to hide the confusion of,
Having to explain my babbling..'
Or why my heart is pounding..
Hands shaking...
Head spinning..
Palms sweating..
Panic attack brimming..
Because.. publicly speaking wasn't meant for me
I suffer from social anxiety,
And it is awkward and agoraphobic.

Call it paranoia
Or insanity.
Or both.
Because it is..

I will never be able to open up like,
"Normal" people do.
Even though I..
Want to..
Tell you,
I love you..
And need you..
And thank you..
But instead I..
Silently write my woes,
Things I wish i could say to,
Family, friends, and foes.