Although
I love to talk
I love to have my words expressed
But when I blurt out the word,
I don't know why my words make me depressed.

Although,
I love to write and make curves on the paper with my ink,
Imagination pouring out of mind
Creating my world in some little corner of this world,
I cannot fathom how to express this world,
Creating it outside my mind
So it can be visible to all.

Although
My thoughts aren't that clustered
My words aren't obscene
I figure out how to blow away everyone
Everyone from my life's messed up scenes.

Although**
I have friends
I love to be with them
But somehow I manage make my own boundaries
And seclude myself from everyone,
Taking no advice from the infinite wisdom trees
I am surrounded by
Who try to make sure
I have a happy life
But happiness is not something which allures
Me, and I repel every positive charge with my negativity.