I am having a difficulty speaking

I am having a diffuculty of acting

Normal--

So I keep singing Normal Girl

so maybe I can be as such

My mind, a racetrack

Waiting for the winning idea to get to the finish line

Of winning idea of how to cope

The idea of maybe to start opening up

The openings that speak louder

Then my meek voice

No

I can't

Cope in that manner

That will only trinkle more blood than tears to aid my internal pain

The runner up

This one

Gives me the satisfaction of both my world and theirs, that--

No one has to see

No one has to hear

No one has to taste

To taste the runner up, my habit

My sick habit

Formed through the insecurities and the battering from the already sick mind

A sick mind that knows the symptoms and ailements that awaits

This sick habit that makes me feel normal

That boosts my soul that I will be heard

By letting it become first in everything I do

Since I want to win the race

It will come as a satisfying victory

To gorge on my insecurites

To feed my salivating soul

To open up my taste buds

To taste

The fuel to my habit, then for it to be

Drained out of me

And for some reason

Helps it drive--

My mind to believe that I am normal

There is nothing to be open about, at all. 

10.16.17 - N.N.