Arms spread wide as she dances and twirls,
her soul leaps through the air as she grins.
From afar, I take heed for those unreserved girls
ignoring my appetent dialogue within.
Consequently, I’ll rehearse with my reflection,
although, she’s utterly withdrawn, too.
Doubtful, and small, and in brutal repression,
liberation is well and truly overdue.
How can they look another in the eye,
not hold back, lamprophony impressive?
When it seems that no matter how hard I try,
my ego appears to be increasingly regressive.
I’ll spend endless moments attempting to prepare,
for my habitual debutante –
out and about, I’ll always ware,
which, anyone else, would be nonchalant.
It’s all so suffocating,
the noise, the movement – I become overloaded with pressure
to perform such a ritual is debilitating,
needing to run back to nowhere for a refresher.
So, I’ll just keep watching her express herself,
and pretend to understand, while I worsen,
I’ll stay there observing by myself,
wishing to be that person.