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"extroverted" poems
I never thought about it that much But making conversation is really hard stuff Put me on stage without a script and I'll shine Put me in a group of girls and I'll cry Because I'm a one of a kind extroverted introvert Really ******* confident and out of it But incredibly ******* shy I never really thought about what I say that much I think the most honest form of communication is touch If I want you out of my space I'll mumble "go away" But my actions are a lot louder throwing a punch at your face I struggle over Facebook when you say "what up" Because I'll say "hey" and immediately log out Its like my personality wants to be known But my words are muffled and rarely shown I'm a one of a kind extroverted introvert I don't expect you to understand
0
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 3:34 PM UTC
Extroverted Introvert
outgoing? I'd say outspoken never been arbitrary or overbearing- just vocal my passion runs deep and pours out excited overflowing when it finds another soul to share it with the energy others direct towards me I absorb and like a mirror reflect it back towards them the energy that rests inside me is like water waiting for an outside force to heat me up excite my molecules or to cool me down mellow the chaos inside me making me stable making me solid if being an extrovert makes me popular and domineering, a fun-loving, party animal who lacks introspection, tell me why I always choose to isolate myself why my few friends I do have I keep at a distance except when I force myself to enjoy their company once or twice in a year why I am easily talked over my words drowned out ignored like background noise my input apbrubtly halted as others drive over it making it no more than the dust their tires kick up why I let them talk over me rather than raise my voice why I would rather read in solitude than go to a party or play a video game rather than socialize why would I choose to ponder existence over existing with others extroverted means I get my energy from external events rather than the internal I am not a synonym for gregariousness
0
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 1:20 AM UTC
THE ISOLATED EXTROVERT
What do you do when you feel uninspired?? It’s been so long since I last wrote a piece. I don’t consider myself a poet. I consider myself an inspirational writer. I write about what I feel and though I feel a lot of things I’m just not the same. I haven’t felt inspired to write. I haven’t felt the urge. I haven’t been moved. Words elude me. I feel like I’m blocked and I’m unhappy. How did you overcome and grasp your inspiration when it left? To tell you a bit about me and my struggles. I have a double personality. One person is Jon. The other is Dom. Hence my username. I am Jon. A quiet, introvert. Mostly keep to myself. Dom is extroverted and into some aspects of the **** lifestyle. Dom went through a rough time feeling betrayed by the one he loved and still loves, to be honest. My family never understood me and they ravaged what beautiful thing I once held in my arms. I was still writing until I suddenly wasn’t anymore.   I want to write. I need to write but the words just don’t flow. Please help! I’m slowly dying inside.
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Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 8:18 AM UTC
I need advice
Appearances aren't always true, If they were, then i would never trust you, For your appearance reminds me of some brute, But your heart is like a child's; innocent and mute. "Extroverted" at first sight I thought, So confident and loud and friendly; what not, Until I went through your shelves unsought, Which filled in secrets and hidden chaos. Fooling yourself with a golden heart, In love with the beauty who reflects your past, Unraveling yourself through knowing her cast, Spells unbound by the cupid's shot. Optimism is your sunshine, The one I praise the most in your shrine, You give hope and spread benign, But forget to feed yourself at times. Beaming grin that you have says, That you are dauntless and courageous and brave, Hiding pains and broken days, You live in the present in the presence of the may, A devil with a halo, A Satan with some wings, Hiding a lot from your own shadow, A box of potential, full of bling. Indeed a friend I will call you, You help me out, showing me the truth, Not denying your annoying ruth, But that's a part of you, a beautiful suit! I could write a thousand words, Yet never explain, The skin deep beauty that you pervade, Just a simple note to your brain, Never underestimate your glowing game!
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Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 11:39 PM UTC
A brute with a golden heart
Did I tell you? I’m kind of quiet… no, really, I am. You should see me around people I don’t know…. Ha, yes, I know you don’t believe me… I talk my socks off around you. But, you’re different. You already know the contents of me… I mean, you may not have read every page in detail, but you get the rough draft. Not many people get that. Man, what a stuck up ***** they say… Miss goody two shoes is too good for us… Not all of us are rich like you they say. Oh, how I wish I was any of those things…it wouldn’t sting when they mistook me for anything but the plains, but instead they see skylines and frosted mountains. I am not as complex, I am not as breathtaking, I am not such a climb. It’s funny. i have it together - it appears from the outside looking in. On the inside, I’m so tired. I know you know this - but they don’t. They don’t see 14 hour days, 98 hour weeks, 5,784 hour years… of on the go, here you can have my time, my peace, my arms, my legs, my soul. They don’t see that. They don’t see me helping the family when they need food that week..and me not eating. They don’t see my sore back, my restless nights, or the loneliness that follows endless hours. I’m the one missing out… and they think I am better than them. If they only knew how much I wished I could be more like them and less like me…. how they are the morning skies… and I am merely a spectacle to their bold colors. They’re outspoken, care free, sociable, …extroverted. I wouldn’t dare say a word. I know even then they wouldn’t get me… not like you do. I just sit back - quietly, watching, listening, absorbing…an abused sponge from one too many passes on the burnt pan. Ha, that’s me. Still giving my all - in whatever pieces are left of me, trying to shine the world. Silly I am. I’m ready to get out of here… or find myself again, and stop smothering my heart. It’s an out of control fire and my day to day has become the dirt. I think if I exhale in a week you may just see smoke pouring from my lungs… I’m burning out. Can you tell?
0
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 2:25 PM UTC
today - a big run on blurb
Did I tell you? I’m kind of quiet… no, really, I am. You should see me around people I don’t know…. Ha, yes, I know you don’t believe me… I talk my socks off around you. But, you’re different. You already know the contents of me… I mean, you may not have read every page in detail, but you get the rough draft. Not many people get that. Man, what a stuck up ***** they say… Miss goody two shoes is too good for us… Not all of us are rich like you they say. Oh, how I wish I was any of those things…it wouldn’t sting when they mistook me for anything but the plains, but instead they see skylines and frosted mountains. I am not as complex, I am not as breathtaking, I am not such a climb. It’s funny. i have it together - it appears from the outside looking in. On the inside, I’m so tired. I know you know this - but they don’t. They don’t see 14 hour days, 98 hour weeks, 5,784 hour years… of on the go, here you can have my time, my peace, my arms, my legs, my soul. They don’t see that. They don’t see me helping the family when they need food that week..and me not eating. They don’t see my sore back, my restless nights, or the loneliness that follows endless hours. I’m the one missing out… and they think I am better than them. If they only knew how much I wished I could be more like them and less like me…. how they are the morning skies… and I am merely a spectacle to their bold colors. They’re outspoken, care free, sociable, …extroverted. I wouldn’t dare say a word. I know even then they wouldn’t get me… not like you do. I just sit back - quietly, watching, listening, absorbing…an abused sponge from one too many passes on the burnt pan. Ha, that’s me. Still giving my all - in whatever pieces are left of me, trying to shine the world. Silly I am. I’m ready to get out of here… or find myself again, and stop smothering my heart. It’s an out of control fire and my day to day has become the dirt. I think if I exhale in a week you may just see smoke pouring from my lungs… I’m burning out. Can you tell?
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I, The extroverted wallflower Want you to see me, While you look right past me. I, The extroverted wallflower Want to stand out While I blend in. I, The extroverted wallflower Want you to close your lips And talk to me. I, The extroverted wallflower Want to be alone In a room of people   I the extroverted wallflower Want you to know who I am While you know nothing of me. I the extroverted wallflower Am privately open. I, The extroverted wallflower Am neither here Nor gone.
0
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 4:05 PM UTC
Wallflower
Extroverted efforts To reveal the deepest thoughts In our minds Are not enough Our endorsements Are not always in their favor Some gestures are silent Picked up by the subliminal
0
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 1:40 PM UTC
Deepest Thoughts
Note to stranger: Don't let her long eyelashes fool you Stemming off from eyelids filled with promise Pupils composed of green and brown paint Mixed and made permanent by the look on her face when you ask her what love means to her Because to her Love is an antique promise Tic Tac Toed into her shoulder blades Another lost game Lonely is made apparent by the reveal of her hipbones Sticking out from the belt loops on the waistband of her dreams Her clothes become looser She is welcomed by friends to parties that she refuses to go to Because even in a room of people The only emotion she is capable of feeling REALLY feeling Is lonely And you may argue that lonely is not an emotion But a state of being But when she truly feels it Lonely becomes both Discolored tulips growing for a flowerpot of unfertilized dirt Masked by a smile that could fool anyone Even her own father Sometimes even herself Mascara stained floor tile Quick change scenes Equivalent to her multiple personalities Sad happy sad happy Sad... She is capable of being both sad and happy She is introverted AND extroverted She is 5 million different people Sometimes wishing she could narrow herself down to just one She is ME
0
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 6:21 PM UTC
She
For One to be Open, all One must do is not be Closed. Aye; indeed t'is the rub that such is so much easier said than t'is done. Yea, tho that be true; t'is but the knowledge thereof, itself, that arms the worthy Ones with the potential to be Aware, and thus to overcome. T'is not a matter of innate ability: t'is rather a matter of choice; of practice; of attention: of Openness. Seek that you may become Open *(not that you aren't, but I know I  so often forget and thus I assume that others must as well!)* by attempting to train yourself not to be Closed; try to remember to not be Closed. It only shrinks your world. Trust me: I've been there. I sometimes forget to leave. Moral of the story: Seek to be an Open Person rather than a Closed one. I don't mean extroverted or introverted, I don't mean monogamous or polyamorous, I don't mean liberal or conservative, I don't mean religious of atheist, I don't mean anything like that; It's much deeper: more fundamental to your Self: ***Do not close yourself off. That is damnation. Remain in pursuit of Openness. It is the best path to Awakening.***
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Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 11:16 PM UTC
Be thee Open; Awaken
Over the past year or so I've become a little bit more extroverted as I'm not meditating as much these days like I used to be and this may not be such a bad thing if my mind isn't perverted or led astray on the wrong path most of the world is we see. But here again this could be just an admission of weakness trying to justify the position that I now find myself to be in along with the rest of the world experiencing a global sickness in the form of the Covid-19 pandemic the result of man's sin. ------------------------- The madness of this world has brought on this pandemic and the underlying cause of it is systemic. ______________________________
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May 24, 2021
May 24, 2021 at 9:23 AM UTC
Extroversion
through the looking glass i see. i know right, im that girl whose life is far from the word perfect and no one wants to be me. cracked, bitter, gloomy, broken ? and im dealing with my own self. hiding under my blankets, dark in my own cave. introverted soul trapped in an extroverted personality. they tell me im emotionless, but im just not good at expressing my feelings. they say im neglectful, i think they just cant dip into my world. they say im freaking out, for me im just me but whose life im living now? oh for God's sake! imma live my own life, not other people's life. im gonna go a hundred miles and live my dreams. i will be who i wanna be. im gonna scream, im gonna sing. i will write hundreds of poetry, thousands of poetry. i will free myself. i will heal myself. im buying new pillows, new cute glasses, i will paint my nails blue and green, i will dye my hair. taking sick days and letting myself fall apart but just then i will buy myself some candies and i will be okay again. i just wanna be alright again and i know i will. im gonna laugh till i cry, im gonna skip classes to study at the library. imma be disgusting and cry into my wounds. going on a walk by myself and tell everyone they look gorgeous. i will dress nicely, and make others feel alright about themselves. imma read books, drink a cup of tea, and buy myself succulents. i wanna love hard, i want an extraordinary love. im gonna love the people i love. i wanna be mad, passionate, going insane. i dont want mediocres, my love is not a mediocre thing. i will live my life and i'll be okay.
0
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 11:00 PM UTC
Untitled
through the looking glass i see. i know right, im that girl whose life is far from the word perfect and no one wants to be me. cracked, bitter, gloomy, broken ? and im dealing with my own self. hiding under my blankets, dark in my own cave. introverted soul trapped in an extroverted personality. they tell me im emotionless, but im just not good at expressing my feelings. they say im neglectful, i think they just cant dip into my world. they say im freaking out, for me im just me but whose life im living now? oh for God's sake! imma live my own life, not other people's life. im gonna go a hundred miles and live my dreams. i will be who i wanna be. im gonna scream, im gonna sing. i will write hundreds of poetry, thousands of poetry. i will free myself. i will heal myself. im buying new pillows, new cute glasses, i will paint my nails blue and green, i will dye my hair. taking sick days and letting myself fall apart but just then i will buy myself some candies and i will be okay again. i just wanna be alright again and i know i will. im gonna laugh till i cry, im gonna skip classes to study at the library. imma be disgusting and cry into my wounds. going on a walk by myself and tell everyone they look gorgeous. i will dress nicely, and make others feel alright about themselves. imma read books, drink a cup of tea, and buy myself succulents. i wanna love hard, i want an extraordinary love. im gonna love the people i love. i wanna be mad, passionate, going insane. i dont want mediocres, my love is not a mediocre thing. i will live my life and i'll be okay.
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44
Black flags hoisted high in some wild parade Occupied residences, the terrified children cry Under militant control now, Fallujah mourns There's no time for petty metaphorical advance Sludge tracks are worn, boots muddied, bloodied It's a strange agreement to use their houses for this, the extroverted violence of a dark regime The Sunnis' purge, spurned; new conflict arises In Ramadi they cry too, it's cyclical, this eternal war When will Iraq see absolution and it's people get to sleep at night?
0
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 1:18 PM UTC
ISIS Came In The Night to Use Your Living Room as a Rebel Base
(Song for the Genteel Salesman Blocking My Path Each Time) If only you knew. Beneath blonde, rebonded locks Curled extroverted lashes Cemented titanium dioxide Plastered patient breathless pores Lips-wine-red Nose elongated, Dark strokes imprudent Cleopatric windows to Sadness of soul. Maverick femininity in Saccharine swan-like greeting If only you knew. Eden was perfect paradise She who was crafted Immaculately from your rib She was your Soulmate You were Beloved Protector, keeper, Nourisher of her being If only you knew. You are treasured by Him Who fashioned you Out of mud Breathed life into your nostrils From nothingness You were imago dei. You were anointed shepherd Of all that lived Moved; slid. You were perfect Majestic in Truth You were imago dei As you should have been And can still be.
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Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 8:57 AM UTC
What Makes You Beautiful
Panic sinks its teeth into my laboured lungs, my shortened breaths signalling their imminent collapse. Breathe in, breathe out I've been through this before. It's going to be alright, it's just a panic attack. Walking down the crowded street among the lucky extroverted souls, who can blind themselves with the cacophony created by a cold city's chaos. Keep my eyes trained on the ground, but keep a vigilant eye on the sidewalk behind, To be sure fear, won't ever catch up to me.
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Feb 26, 2020
Feb 26, 2020 at 7:53 PM UTC
Introverted Soul
I've always been in between life. It's always somewhere over being uncertain and certain, optimistic and pessimistic, and introverted or extroverted. Despite all that, there's one thing I'm sure of. It is holding on to dear life, going along through it. I am nothing more than human, but I am my own future.
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Jun 2, 2020
Jun 2, 2020 at 10:37 AM UTC
between
*"Being an introvert in an extroverted world can absolutely be difficult." Came across this on some blog. Think it's more complex to be a mediocre, an extro-intro or an intro-extro... you can't go all out... you won't remain all in... you're doomed to be in the twixt. Yet the middle is dangerous... The middle of the Ocean is the deepest, the middle of the jungle is the riskiest... the middle of the garden of Eden doomed an entire race... for its existence... no driver would drive freely in the middle lane, most run to the climbing lane soon as they see it. Some say the Earth is trapped between Heaven and Hell... maybe we're a compound of Paradisal elements and the rumbles of the Hades... the pawns in the Chess between God and Satan, the Jobs in the bible of now... I'm a Junk of all trades & I'm afraid being in between trades makes me a master of non... I know too much and yet I know nothing... I am an extro-intro... I go out only until the plank starts to swing the other way... I go out until I sense the cold and quickly run back to the lukewarm betwixt for the hot is as fatal to my kind as the cold. Am not an Author and neither am I a poet... Am a "Poether'' or an "Auoet", Am not philosophical neither am I Theological...am "philological" or "Theolophical". I'm trapped at the equator... I'm neither an Eskimo nor an "Antactico"... Not Ugandan nor Kenyan... Tanzania can't claim me but there's yet to be a concrete East African... maybe I'm African. My point is some people think the middle is safe... but I believe different. it's my opinion if you want to be a piglet be one, if you want to be a puppy be a puppy for its fatal to be a Pipet or puppet... both are instruments... even their use is similar. My tragedy is am in between, am a mediocre, a pother, an opssimist, a philothopher, a ctranger or say "Ukantan". I'm just there... Don't be caught in my place... find a place to belong... no matter how dangerous and risky... always choose where you lie...always strive hard to find a prowess... Go past the lines for History remembers those who are unique... whether for the worst or the best. Be the last if you can't be the first...* **Everyone will remember Mabirizi for he knew how to be the last... And sadly everyone will remember Museveni for he's good at keeping his place. Who will remember the one in between. Who will remember Besigye? Who will remember the servant boy that cautioned Achilles against fighting the Thessalonian? Who will remember me?**
0
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 11:42 AM UTC
Who Will Remember?
*"Being an introvert in an extroverted world can absolutely be difficult." Came across this on some blog. Think it's more complex to be a mediocre, an extro-intro or an intro-extro... you can't go all out... you won't remain all in... you're doomed to be in the twixt. Yet the middle is dangerous... The middle of the Ocean is the deepest, the middle of the jungle is the riskiest... the middle of the garden of Eden doomed an entire race... for its existence... no driver would drive freely in the middle lane, most run to the climbing lane soon as they see it. Some say the Earth is trapped between Heaven and Hell... maybe we're a compound of Paradisal elements and the rumbles of the Hades... the pawns in the Chess between God and Satan, the Jobs in the bible of now... I'm a Junk of all trades & I'm afraid being in between trades makes me a master of non... I know too much and yet I know nothing... I am an extro-intro... I go out only until the plank starts to swing the other way... I go out until I sense the cold and quickly run back to the lukewarm betwixt for the hot is as fatal to my kind as the cold. Am not an Author and neither am I a poet... Am a "Poether'' or an "Auoet", Am not philosophical neither am I Theological...am "philological" or "Theolophical". I'm trapped at the equator... I'm neither an Eskimo nor an "Antactico"... Not Ugandan nor Kenyan... Tanzania can't claim me but there's yet to be a concrete East African... maybe I'm African. My point is some people think the middle is safe... but I believe different. it's my opinion if you want to be a piglet be one, if you want to be a puppy be a puppy for its fatal to be a Pipet or puppet... both are instruments... even their use is similar. My tragedy is am in between, am a mediocre, a pother, an opssimist, a philothopher, a ctranger or say "Ukantan". I'm just there... Don't be caught in my place... find a place to belong... no matter how dangerous and risky... always choose where you lie...always strive hard to find a prowess... Go past the lines for History remembers those who are unique... whether for the worst or the best. Be the last if you can't be the first...* **Everyone will remember Mabirizi for he knew how to be the last... And sadly everyone will remember Museveni for he's good at keeping his place. Who will remember the one in between. Who will remember Besigye? Who will remember the servant boy that cautioned Achilles against fighting the Thessalonian? Who will remember me?**
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It's an acid Bitter, mordacious, caustic A hot and writhing serpent in my gut It's jealousy She's gorgeous funny charming extroverted I don't really care about that Except I wonder if you do. because you know what else she's got? She's got your inside jokes your banter  your smile your laugh your glances across the room Does she have you? ~ Do you remember our inside jokes? our banter? our looks? I dream of your smile.  do you remember mine? Can you talk with her?  You are one of the few who can argue (successfully) with me. I can recall your thoughtful look. You always understood me. Does she, you? ~ I shouldn't be jealous. You were never truly mine.  You never so much as tried to hold my hand.  much less kiss me,   or more. But, knowingly or not, you hold a piece of my heart. I think there might be  a hole in your pocket,  because my heart is slipping. It feels trembling and small and -worst of all- helpless ~ Do you know? Do you realize? What you do to me? ~ Does she have you?
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Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 11:47 PM UTC
Bitter Queries
Extroverted goes great with introverted. Supposed to be extrovert in search of beautiful, yet honourable girl, to pay attention to. Even though I don't have courage or a great body, I'll try to win her over. It's showering with closed eyes, searching for the faucet, hoping to pick the right side, or maybe left. Waiting for the water to drip on my soft, not hairless skin. Will it be too hot, too cold or just perfect? Then there's still shampoo to worry about, better smell the bottle first. Suddenly the water comes out, first dripping, cold, then flowing, warm. Too much tension for me.
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Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 5:11 PM UTC
Shy girls
The fight to keep us together Is certainly unbelievable The fights we have Hurt, like hell but are retrievable You are affectionate and extroverted Your full of wonders of joy and your heart felt But me I was introverted but it's different now U helped me with stress and pain I've dealt It makes you sympathetic when you listen to my problems I know I complain and whine a lot, it's just this love is divergent When I say I feel ugly you say the opposite you say beautiful You make me smile and giggle, when I need you sometimes it's urgent But if we take out our fights and out in good times Everything seems to align like the stars, just right To me ur my world and larger then life You are my BOOBEAR and my hubby, I'll be holding on to this love very tight I love your smile, it's so cute with ur messed up tooth Stop calling yourself ugly, you know I don't like when you do it I think you are the cutest most sexiest man alive And don't forget it(;
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Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 11:47 PM UTC
The fight of love
Introverted Extroverted Procrastinator I'll figure it out later Socially awkward Fashion forward Emotionally unstable Pick a label Depressed But well dressed Tired eyes See the lies High heels Too many feels I have to become Emotionally numb Cause I strive To survive Know your place Put on your brave face Let them label you They haven't got a clue Who you are Beneath that scar They notice the imperfections On every section Of your body that they pick apart But they're blind to the beauty of your heart.
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Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 3:34 PM UTC
Nowadays
All this time I have thrown around this label My tendency to observe my surroundings Searching for answers in every action, every move I used to think I was a wallflower A extroverted wallflower who simultaneously was a social butterfly but I am not this, I am not this at all I am a writer
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Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
I am a writer.
My life has been molded by the world of 15 minute increment agendas and 150 character updates by the second. My body has been pacified by the world of liquid sugar satiation and instant edible gratification. My mind has been conditioned by the world that favors extroverted personalities and introverted abdomens and collarbones. I live, move and breathe in the world that is scared of freethinkers and will not succeed in boxing me in. In my world, I define my own worth.
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Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 4:43 PM UTC
Freethinker
I feel numb, stuck, trapped My insecurities get worse each day I miss my extroverted self I don't know where I've gone? I'm existing; not living I'm not unhappy, I am not sad I'm apathetic : neither here nor there No movement, nothing changes Yet my life, my home, myself ... Have changed beyond recognition I am using this nothingness to heal Educate, restore, fix, mend In the stillness, I find my soul My brain refuses to acknowledge it Mindset is in quandary, undecided Body is aging before my own eyes Soul is vulnerable , yet open Honesty is blunt, uncomfortable for some, but necessary Old friends question and probe New friends acquired along the road Baggage weighs heavy I can not put it down These are the ramblings of the mentally unwell Emotionally unstable, is my label I wear it well: you really couldn't tell Unless you are reading this I'll pretend and disguise the panic in my eyes Censor my language, no triggers spoken Not to alarm, not to self harm Just keep quiet, be good, continue to be misunderstood
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Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 11:31 AM UTC
THE VOID - 13/10/15