It's a lonely world, watching from the floor

By , Flemington, NJ
I felt the magic wearing off until I was
Alone again,
On the outside of the laughter,
Conscious of nothing but also
Everything all at once.
Aware of the delirious dances and
Flailing limbs; one wrong step
Would make me broken.
Safety lied in the fetal position
Where no one would trample my
Scars. I didn’t understand the need for shouting and I
Couldn’t appreciate the attempts to lock the door
It all seemed so trivial as I
Stared at the miniature airplanes frozen in time
Swaying in the currents of the space heater.
And also the cars,
Perched precariously on the plywood shelves
Supported by a silvery baseball bat.
How strange was that room with the
Blotchy carpet and the dark denim bean bag chairs.
I took in the scenery with my
Head tilted right and my arm bent
Back and my eye trained on the
Darkness of the window whose reflection
Burned with spinning figures with whipping hair
And hearing nothing but the thud in my ears. For there’s
No music for outsiders





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