Introversion Impulses – 4

The fiction of me has always been apparent in my sinews, even when I was a child, I watched others adore each other, I watch them follow the agreed rhythm, the your turn, my turn of civility, and even though I was always mannered, I was anything but civilised, they trivialised and I could not empathise, with this disguise, of cooperative collaborative lies, covered eyes, coveted prize, souls demise, inceptuous devise, to hypnotise, frivolous guise, of enterprise, to fraternise, to fantasise, to emphasise, and humanise  this incredible numbing down, to desensitise and normalise, I just couldn’t engage, I couldn’t try, I was always the kid in the corner, watching, observing and not engaging, different than disengaging, that happened later, I didn’t engage and when I grew older I found the subtleties hidden in my core and further disengaged, I undid the need to belong, I sang my own song, in tunes and melodies that are never wrong, ever long, so to myself, I’d belong, but hey, I don’t exist to myself, that’s why its so easy to ignore everyone else.

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