CHEWIN THE CUD OF ANXIETY

an intovert

with an eye patch

coverin one,

fiercely alone while extroverts

chit-chat mundane things.

gotta write a poem,

and think rejection

in the same manner

when wantin a lady

and stew over it

as if this is a datin service

and ruminate in it

like my brain is smokin

and still be scared like shit

drawin myself outta this shell,

cause it’s so exhaustin

in real life to hardly talk

at the first site of a woman

that makes my eye

work extra hard

in all its loneliness.

 

 

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