Difficult to explain to those who don’t suffer
This ailment that pervades my mind.
Deep rooted and tangled it lives
And easily it hides,
folding backwards on itself at the slightest hint of detection.
Hard to seek, it hides even from its master
who can so swiftly become host to its parasite.
Crowded in this room of upright animals
I flounder, I fight to keep my head above.
But these animals do not speak my silent tongue.
Fingers twitching, my breath is fast
and the world seems to spin.
Alone alone alone is what I want,
a foreign idea to my bipedal friends
who do not know this ailment that pervades my mind.
Yet this sickness does not make me ill,
Different I am stronger, smarter in word and book.
I know the language of my heart,
the language of my mind.
But I will never understand the language of this social mass.
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