Writing- An escape

.And so I write, Don't want to fight An internal struggle My life's a muddle

But when words Go unheard It hurts much more, Hidden behind a door

I can't read people Or what they feel Imagination and memory An unbeatable enemy?

Always feeling so cold, Set apart from the world. Am I so strange? Am I really deranged?

Even if this is so Should I feel this low? And when called erratic, mad Should I really feel this bad?

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