the thought
of interacting
with anyone
repulses me
or more aptly
i am fully
unable to imagine
anyone willingly
interacting
with my repulsiveness

why would they

an ugly old man
whose only minor
consistency is
in falling apart
a mentally ill
idiot savant in
relation to words
with little else
of societal value
drunkenly stumbling
back and forth from
selfmadecatastrophes

my fight or flight
response has evolved
into an anxiety inducing
game of hideanddon’tseek
as i hunker deep into
the rotting vegetation
flinching at every
ollyollyoxenfree
for fear of being seen
for the incomprehensible
stain ruining the scenery

anunconvincingcontradiction
slicing into insecurities
exploring the salacious
curves of bipolar obsession
bleeding onto the page yet
embarrassed at any attention

the sparrows sing
coaxing out the shy sun
with odes to shiny baubles
in a refraction of joy
while i sit paralyzed
making excuses to stay
hidden inside a cocoon
of anxieties knowing
nothing will change