I Don’t Do Parties
I bring knitting to a party so I don’t have to speak
But I’m a firm believer of keeping my heart on my sleeve
It’s not easy being open, but being shut is worse
My mouth will run in circles, is it a blessing or a curse?
I’ve been trying to fully see them, the solidarity of worth
But I’m finding trouble keeping places that can’t be burnt
The fire from anxiety creeps it’s way out side of me
I simply state that it’s not fair, normal brains I can’t compare
My guts are spilling on the floor but you won’t be around no more
I’m finding that the worst of this is feeling like I have to quit
Game over, but where did I last save?
I can’t remember the point of this bullshit anyways
You speak as if your whispers are the culmination of your worth
But I see your words in rivers, creating currents for the birds
I can hear you clearly, like the sound of a battered gong
But you sing in tongues and we’re singing different songs
~September 4th, 2018
