People are like leaves
Some have been stepped on
And some have just fallen
Some have been taken by a child and cherished
And some left on the bottom of the leaf pile
Forgotten

People are like leaves
So different from each other
Some older
Some younger
Different shapes and sizes
Colors mixed together

People are like leaves
Some are misshapen and not picked up
And some are declared beautiful and get straightened in a book

I have been having this feeling
for a week now,
every day I go to my uni classes,
everytime I see my friends.
Everytime I wander alone in the hallways,
Everytime I stay still and stand,
it follows around, it has been days.

Everytime I talk,
it comes out as broken sentences.
Everytime I talk,
It comes out as mumbles.
I should be able to do it-
I should be able to talk,
But I can't get myself to speak.

I talked to my mom right now,
I'm already questioning half the things I said.
Why am I critical, what is it I dread?

I need to meet a friend next week,
I am already planning the things to speak,
Making a list of things to say.
I am already nervous about how it is going to be,
Must be me, it can't be like that with everybody.

Anytime I have to go meet
someone, or even pick them up
from a place they decided,
I'm more scared than excited.

"What if I accidentally stand on the other side, waiting"
"What if I wait too long and everyone stares"
"What If I'm not able to find them, what if I look lost"
"What if I am not confident about my walk"
"What if I am not able to crack through the uncomfortable silence"
"What if I look awkward, what if they get bored"
It is seven days apart, it's already in my head.
What if I just stayed home instead?
"What if I embarrass them?"
"What if they feel ashamed of knowing me"
"What if I am just the awkward friend"
He is a good friend, his actions push my doubts away
But the fear in me, it decides to stay.

I try to act all cool, "I don't care about it"
There is no "cool", There is no "it"
What am I hiding? I don't know still.

Is it something that will ever be fixed?
Will it always be like that?
Where did it come from?
Where will it take me?
Will it push people away?
Make them judge me?

Other people can do it, some even better than others.
They create clear sentences,
out of the fog of their thoughts and frenzies.

I stay in the corner, quiet and hidden.
Should I even go out? Make my words be spoken?
The idea immediately makes me dread,
My shortcomings and how I don't feel like I'm normal,
I feel so different, I feel so separate.
I fear I might be wrong, but what I dread even more
is the feeling of being truly isolated and different
"What if I am really just correct?"

hey

hi

can you hear me?

I think your video is off but yes

okay

task one

item three

did that just happen?

earnings call tonight

I voted during lunch, too

task five

item eleven

what happens now?

I’ll share my screen, can you read it okay?

glad we’re almost done with the project

what happens next?

Last night,
I hugged my favourite book as I went to sleep.
"What an odd thing to do"
my mind said,
But I've never felt so close to myself,
as I did,
that late night.

"The fountainhead" the cover read
as it lay right next to me, on my bed.

I put my pen to paper
as I leave half my worries behind

Vomited the words I once engulfed,
as I realised,
they were always mine.