Poems/Creative Writing

I Sit Alone

I sit alone. While you have your conversations about God knows what.

I sit alone.

I sit in isolation to keep away from the reality that heartless people actually exist.

Unless I make myself visible, I am just here to fill some sort of mass.

Unless I make myself known, I'm not really here.

I sit here and listen to all of your pointless conversations and wish I had more than two or three people to have that with.

And if I hear something I particularly enjoy talking about, I sit and pretend to inject in the conversation, but I don't actually do it, because what's the point when I expect no one to listen?

What's the point in getting excited that I actually talked to another human being, when to the person, I'm just skin and bones?

I sit and listen to your joy, your anger, your angst, your confusion.

I listen to you talk, even though no one really hears me.

I would scream from the top of the mountains, but because all I know is ignoring my existence, I stay in the valley and whisper to the flowers.

I sit and hear your murmurs and small jokes, not hearing them quite clearly, but some words can be made out.

I hear jokes and laughter and think it's about me, but how can it be about me when no one knows I'm here?

All I know is pointless gossip is gripping your throats and stupid little comments that could potentially hurt someone are slithering through your ears.

All I know is, that I don't exist.

I'm a ghost. Some of you can see me. Some of you even have the balls to talk to me.

Talk to air, to most people.

I sit at the desk in the back corner because I don't want to subject myself to audible suicide.

I don't want to feel more empty than I already do, if that's possible.

And othing hurts more than someone you fine interesting, ignoring you and pretending you're not there.

I sit in my own bubble, formed of depression and anxiety, but no one seems to care to pop the bubble.

No one thinks that I am friendly or interesting or funny or worth their time.

What choices you make, no matter how small will eventually rip someones heart out of their chest, slowly to stop beating, to die off.

Every choice you make, every single decision that you make affects more than just you.

I sit alone and rethink my life and ask myself Why am I living in fear?

They are just people, right?

Wrong.

To me, it's more than just talking.

To me, it's breaking down my barrier.

It's getting over my anxiety that never goes away.

It's overcoming my fear of people.

I sit by myself so no one has to try to make me feel included or to feel bad for me.

I keep to myself so you don't feel obligated to talk to me.

So you don't get uncomforatble and awkward.

I sit alone because I'm too afraid of rejection.

I'm too afraid of the person I'm talking to secretly thinking bad things about me because that's all I know.

All I know and hear is hate because I always feel like everyone is always mad at me and I don't know how to stop it.

I sit in isolation.

What is a better way to stay away from all of the negativity than sitting alone?

Nothing.

I sit alone so I don't have to deal with the ear piercing words that are said that you all subject yourselves to.

So I don't feel guilty for being a part of hate.

So I don't get suffocated by the terrible words crawling into my ear drums.

I sit alone because I don't know how to sit with random people.

I don't know how to make friends because all of my friends give up on me anyways.

I sit alone so I don't feel lonely, although that is exactly what I am.

I try to cure my loneliness with sitting by myself.

And by that, I am left out of everything because I don't want to depend on other people.

I try to cure my loneliness by sitting alone and turning myself off.

It's not like anyone would notice if I were mentally there anyways.

I sit alone, in isolation, by myself. In pain and emotional distress so no one has to deal with me.

I sit, pretending not to exist, because to most, I don't in the first place.

I sit, in loneliness because I don't want to be a burden.

A bother.

So I sit. And I sit. And I sit.

To deal with myself, because in the end, I'm all I have,

and even then... I still hate myself.

I sit alone, in isolation.

So no one else has to feel like they have to put up with me.

I sit alone.