What is that sound?
tick tick, tick tock.
It’s really quite odd,
I don’t own a clock.

It’s ninety one past thirteen,
wait, that can’t be right.
Time for another pill,
medicinal light.

Just smile, and nod,
until your cheeks hurt.
Now laugh, pull it back,
compliment their new shirt.

It’s orange, no it’s red,
**** what is that hue?
What do you mean it’s white?
It’s ******* pastel blue.

Now throw out a joke,
and some proper context.
Good job, you failed,
like an impotent sext.

You’re talking too loud,
oh Jesus, shut up.
How much have you drank?
Really? One cup?!

Finger guns now,
and a smooth exit we go.
Ya that wasn’t awkward,
you nailed it, fo sho.

What has happened to me,
to my social skills?
Frantic, and panicked,
are not conditionally ideal.

I want you to like me,
I want you to see.
To see through my awkwardness,
and help set me free.

I do talk too much,
my mouth won’t shut up.
It’s like the relay in my brain,
is broken, or corrupt.

I’m not usually like this,
I hear my mouth say.
Constantly apologizing,
and then you’ve gone away.

I want to explain,
the jumbled mess of my head.
But I don’t know how to do it,
without making it worse instead.

No I’m not weird,
I’ve just been alone.
Social skills need exercise,
and mine are skin and bones.

When you walk away,
another part of me dies.
Part of me wants to explain,
and part of me wants to cry.

Im turning into two people,
the oddball and the norm.
When they try to coexist,
it creates the perfect storm.

So no, I don’t blame you,
for walking away.
Just know that I’m sorry,
for being this way.

To drown in yellows is to stare too long
At those fiercely awkward moments of yours,
But it’s all I can do.
Even as alarm bells ring incessantly, over and over.

At times I feel socially awkward
hiding away those eyes from contact
mumbling and stuttering
as though I were stumbling,
upon the words as I was discovering.

Please don’t think I don’t want to talk
when I rush out,
Please don’t think I don’t want to talk,
when I don’t open your messages.

I escape out of nervosity
I feel the fuzziness in my head
butterflies in my stomach
nervosity in my nerves
lack of air in my lungs
tremble in my muscles
and the gritting of my teeth on my nails
as it drains every ounce of energy out of me.

I hide behind shadows
so I don’t encounter any social interaction.

No matter how many times I plan
and play a conversation in my head
I shudder and fret in reality,
making myself look like an awkward mess.

I want to be friends
I want to say hi
but the words do not escape
for I feel tongue tied.

I feel conscience and dreadful
for being such an awkward mess
choking on words
unable to let them
escape my tongue.

I am thinking
more than I am speaking
I can have a conversation in my head
but somehow, I find it difficult in reality.

But then you reach out
and make the first move
It makes it easier;
only to find myself
being an embarrassment once again.

But you don’t judge
you play it cool
and remain patient
you still show an eager to talk
and maybe that was what I needed
to be comfortable and me.