INFJ - T

I grow exhausted at the exuberance of crowds.
Not able to ignore that nagging voice that whispers the evils of them
Feelings of fear overpower the simple formula of conversation
Jutting into remind me of my appearance compared to theirs -
Too weak to fight against it.

It’s not easy to speak my mind.
Never daring to even introduce myself
Following a very strict line
Just taking each day step by step -
Thinking someday I’ll be able to explain.

Inside, I judge everything.
New situations make the feelings shake
Fear and turbulence expand within
Jaw clenched and sweaty palms -
Thin skin begins to bruise.

Introverted and intuitive
Nervous, yet calm
From day to day
Just a puppet -
To a never-ending nightmare

It is sudden and total
distinguishing and dangerous
fluctuating and gives no warning
occurring frequently but is always present
relatively a much more complicated phenomenon
the initiation is dark and repeated in very large numbers
different members fracture from the tension
gradually the level strain will yield
but then time can and will vary
until we’re static again.


Source: Richard G. Budynas and J. Keith Nisbett, “Shigley’s Mechanical Engineering Design”, McGraw Hill, 2015

The translucent glass
Small vines wrap around
It connects the inside to the outer shell
The bones of hollow
And the gloss of blues
Vivid to the eye
Reflections of light show themselves
The small mysteries of earthy heavens
The sounds of frigid winds carry
The small angels of earth
They blend and blind the blood ones
Those who stalk its lusterful beauty
To watch it float is like to watch a tear fall
Fall from the eyes of innocence
Glowing with flames of ice
Perpetual harmonious laughter
Ringing like small myths to the eyes
Glorious creature they are
Glorious they will be,
Those who fly

There's
a
rhythm inside me that I want  craft fire to
But I never can keep up with the ticking clock

There's

a
wall that obstructs my view I want to see higher yet
What if I climb until I find out I don't like what's at the top?

One day I'll step out of line and ignore the warden who drags me back
I'll climb the tree next to the wall and dance along the top
But for now each day pulls me in a struggle unyielding
It would be a dance if my mind could process all that keeps proceeding

If I could pause it for a beat perhaps I could find my feet
But the game gets faster while I just get more confused.

I suppose I'll get used to it.  Will it always be this way?
and does it feel the same somehow to everybody else?
I want to dance perfectly
impeccably,
beautifully
in a way that's new and full of life and my own very soul

but head down I keep dozing to miss out on the pain and I shut my eyes
Squint over the wall's holes.

I see your rhymes
Playing in time
Crafting the tunes
That are on your mind

I see your structure
      Building a home
            To live in your own
               Architectural bliss

I see your simplicity
Abstraction
Emotional beauty

I see your poems
Penned out of passion
Attempts to plagiarize
What's in your soul
If only I could know them
Year by year
The poems and the emotions
And what's really going on here