August 13, 2013
Muddy coffee and a feeling of loneliness. The dust of my mistakes flies up where I tread and chokes me. Poetry is lost on my tone-deaf ears. All I have is who I am, and around others, who I am is not enough because the exuberance of the extroverts drowns out my tiny voice. Salvation can be found in friends or in books, but books cannot comfort like the embrace of a friend. Pain can also be found in books, but there is no pain like the pain of a friend pressing the proverbial knife into your back, twisting.