In school, I've learned not to be afraid of those that prance those awkward halls,
I know that I'm past it all and rissen past those falls,
The waves of drama, torrents of petty,
And I know I'm past it all, that I'm ready,
I hold myself high, and puff out my chest,
But sometimes it's a lie, and I'm placed under arrest
By the pettiness surrounding me,
The eyes drilling into my very soul I feel,
They aren't, really,
But it nearly makes my boughs keel.
But I fake it till I make it,
Knowing I don't belong there.
Knowing I'm different, yet
Being strong enough to "not" care.
It's different in the other world,
Shopping or being surrounded by older folk,
My confidence finds itself curled
Into itself, spilling out of me before I've spoke
I'm crawling out of my skin,
Crawling, crawling out of my skin, and
I don't know how to face this fear,
Filing me like ants, or heat akin to a brand.
It's deep within yet all at once,
This fear of not belonging,
And it's a slice deep to my core,
A fire truly rocking,
I'm crawling out of my skin,
Crawling, crawling out of my skin.
It builds in me, a colony, a shackle never to let me free,
A terrible trinity of anxiety, worry, and symphony,
A screaming song of doubt,
Filled with the speeding staccato of my heart,
"Do you need help finding something?" Someone asks, I feel like I'm shaking apart,
Reaching a crescendo
Of a song no one has yet to know,
And it wells within me,
It swells within me,
And I wonder-
Will I explode into a mess upon these walls?
Will anyone know where my shaking body falls?
I don't belong here, I've been avoiding gazes,
I've been feeling fear, passing thoughts through hazes,
And now I must respond, it's been too long-
"Yes, please, I need..."
And it's gone.
It rushes away, and timid embarrassment fills my head,
And I'm wondering why it took so long
To feel this here instead,
To leave those grinding gears behind,
And admit when I needed someone,
To help me when the horrid grind,
Comes to a screeching halt,
To help me when this brain of mine
Sees a falsely frightening fault.
Being out there is TERRIFYING.
Being in a place you feel unwelcome is TERRIFYING.
But sometimes, it's all in your head.
YOU ARE READING
Air Conditioning
PoetryVent poetry It's frowned upon putting your heart on your sleeve with such a weak code like a three number pin. For both of our sakes I hope you aren't the type to spend your time digging your claws in and working to decode someone else's words an...
