i am an introvert
a social retard
unable to act human
around even the closest to me.
what comes with these handycaps
these countless curses
is my words
and god, i have so many words.
i can take my words
and i can twist them ito music notes in a key of my own
i can blow them into the air and watch as they become the wind
in a valley of verses and stanzas
i can dip into the darkest depths of my heart and pry out my thoughts
and i can wrap them around myself
like a blanket of adjuctives and metapohores
i can do all this
but i cand take my words
and wrap them around your neck when we hug
i cant form my words into my looks
and i can not socialise with simmilies and allegories
my friends are my words.
quite an unfortunate trade
my social life for self expression...
but ive learned
and my words have formed cement walls around me
they lock titanium shaackles on my wrists and ankles.
they say my words are a gift...
they are wrong.
my words are a prison cell.