The Awkward

Awkward follows me into social places

Hovering over each heartfelt exchange

Taking over the weighted pauses

Transforming normal into painfully strange,

Mutating into my soft-spoken speech

Flashing “INTROVERT” in neon signs

Tumbling around on my stammering tongue

Fashioning a socially anxious shrine.

What a paradox the awkward creates

To one who attempts to be warm and kind

Making it necessary to socially isolate

Lest I frighten you with my blubbering mind.

Published by Quietest Poet

Writer, mother, counselor, flower gardener, recipe seeker, and Netflix lover.

3 thoughts on “The Awkward

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