Pop-punk music

You asked me something ordinary.

You asked me to tell you about myself. You asked me what kind of music I liked to listen to. You asked me what I wanted to do after high school. You asked me something I should have been able to answer.

You asked me questions that shouldn’t have made me freak out, or have an attack.

I shouldn’t have started shaking when I tried to tell you the answer.

Why did I start shaking? Why did it feel so difficult to even open my mouth? Why didn’t the words come out when my mouth finally opened? Why were my thoughts flying around my mind so fast it felt like I was barely thinking at all. Why wasn’t I able to answer?

Was it because I struggle with letting people in? Opening myself up?

I must have a real problem if I can’t even tell someone that I’m just a regular person, that I like to listen to pop punk music, and that I want to go to college…

Why was it so hard to just tell them the answer? Why did my brain decide to completely shut down?

This poem is about: 
Me

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