You fight yourself.

You hate yourself.

You live to love life, but failure make you frail.

Fake and fantastic is the realism of imagination…ism.

Retreating into your head instead of facing the dread of interaction based regret.

Time ticks, tocks and the tick to talk clocks in.

Hopes that nothing embarrassing will come out

Don’t think, imagine, enjoy.

Our interests don’t line up.

Abruptly I interrupt.

I’m inherently awkward and say something wrong.

I no longer wish to get along.

Life is like a toy you play with until it breaks.

This doesn’t happen when you don’t take risks and avoid all mistakes.

At least I tried.

By Amriel Sewa