You’re not in position,
And it irritates me.
What am I supposed
To be in this play now?
It troubles me—you bother me.
Like it doesn’t matter.
You’re stuck in yourself,
Disconnected from me.
And I’m too sensitive,
Repulsed by your ways.
Cold meets Bitter.
Settling into your own;
As expected, As should I.
But like I always knew,
You’re just like the rest.
You don’t get it at all.
This story is part of a collection of poems, short stories and introspective diary entries, called “Grimoire of a Weird Person II”.