I dream to be alone.
Solidarity is scent free.
Controlled, but not even as much that.
It is my preferred element.
Can I think without your stare please?
Your interest has a death grip on my introspection-craving mentus.
Must I wear a sign declaring my intent?
Cohabitation is not my forte,
Quality time is my language of love.
Philosophize me that!
I am the +, - quadrant of human interaction and withdrawal.
I am increasingly self-aware of an imbalanced equilibrium.
Say "thank you!" to the hissing kettle inside my corporeal shell.
The last grain of sanity signals my extrovert “time out,” and retreat is necessitated.
Unfortunately that’s a hard respect to demand of my fellow life bodies.
I’m breaking no promises.
“If you knew me, then you’d know…”
I’m readying myself to keep promises.
It’s my in and out: a God-given dichotomous ecosystem.
While out or intro I would naturally give priority, I practice balance.
It’s my mandate.
All cloud surfers must come down.
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