I am a gritty human product
Borne of paranoia and deliberation;
Hearing voices, convincing myself they're in my head,
Then checking over my shoulder anyway.
Loving the night,
Falling for those I share it with,
But fearing it
When I'm at dark windows alone.
I am a bitter combination
Of "I've already exhausted that outlet"
And "It isn't worth finding a new one";
Arguing against both cynics and optimists,
Because regardless of what any of us think,
I'm still better at words than they are.
I am a committed loner;
Just as successful at describing
The agony of my own company,
As finding reasons why everyone else's is inferior.
I invite the world into my own,
With a smile and convenient anecdote,
Then euthanize the conversation
When I realize their opinions are only
Recycled from people actually worth meeting.
I am a smitten planner,
Reborn in lists and agendas
Until I realize what it actually takes
To turn "to-do" into "done".
I fall into my web of goals,
But reach for my wastebasket,
Because without paper, I'm just
Inaction without proof
That I'll accomplish something eventually.
I am a jittery mess;
A judgmental sober
With just enough alcohol in my system
To pretend that I am not actually
With or without other gritty human products
Crowding around me with
The same drink in their hands.