i am an introvert 

a social retard

unable to act human

around even the closest to me.

what comes with  these handycaps

these countless curses

sorrowfull setbacks

is my words

and god, i have so many words.

i can take my words

and i can twist them ito music notes in a key of my own

i can blow them into the air and watch as they become the wind

in a valley of verses and stanzas

i can dip into the darkest depths of my heart and pry out my thoughts

and i can wrap them around myself 

like a blanket of adjuctives and metapohores

i can do all this 

but i cand take my words

and wrap them around your neck when we hug

i cant form my words into my looks

and i can not socialise with simmilies and allegories

my friends are my words.

quite an unfortunate trade

my social life for self expression...

but ive learned

and my words have formed cement walls around me

they lock titanium shaackles on my wrists and ankles.

they say my words are a gift...

they are wrong.

my words are a prison cell.