Conversation

​”You don’t talk very much, do you?”

“I think I talk enough.”

“I don’t hear you talk that often at all.”

“Are my lack of words strange to you?”

‘No. No not really but…”

“you see, social anxiety is tough. But over many years

I have learnt that being in rooms with strangers

And acting normal is a completely pointless endeavour;

You look more socially anxious. So, 

I hover, picking up conversations that interest me and

Choose my words very, very carefully so that I have 

Meaning and purpose to a group of people. With this,

I enjoy talking to people more often and begin to accept

That while I am still mentally insecure, I can play a part

And still accept that I am essentially unique.

You see, I’m not ashamed of being different, but if

Planning ahead means that I can enjoy the company

Of strangers and friends that little bit more, then 

I am content to hover and silently choose.”

…………………

“But thanks for noticing.”

Parallel

It is an interesting scenario that I face,
you might say,
Turning left, then right, at the same path
every single day.
Some might say that I could have moved; I have it
My own way,
However, this is not true; I am struggling with a
Parallel dimension
Where left and right has no bearing on the wings
Of ascension;
Except, maybe to keep me within the very
Fine tension
Of This two-tone street – So narrow and with one
Humble abode
That I stare at every single blasted day; a callous,
Cold road.
However, I couldn’t have it any other way,
Truth be told,
For life is so simple when one has only two
Options to face –
We see left, with its familiar winding steepness and
Lack of grace
And of course, Right; unknown, dormant for
The human-race.
Moving forward helps me back to the clearness of
My window,
Staring through, deciding on which path to follow
Tomorrow –
Though my mind is always set on straight ahead;
Absolute sorrow.

Tragic loss – Up and Down

I wonder
How people fly within themselves to be stronger, to grip those wings and carry on
past the sky, With Floating colours streaming down through our lives
Gliding high
Grounded pathways, true –
It was not for you.

We see him
When sun shines bright to pierce our hearts we remember, of all the highs afflicted us
Like a drug, A burst of reasons not to follow it through
Highs and lows
Yes, we know the path –
It was not to last.

I fear her
In equal measure holding on to the mood change, the memories so silently
Fall away, they crash right through and hit the people below
Tragic loss
In your death, you grew –
If I only knew?