[img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/190709/576f75a819fc646bdd03f4fbe331fbbe.png[/img]

I walk into a room.
People? More than two.
I don't want to feel nervous,
But I do. That nagging tick.

I want to continue, to stay.
So I force myself,
"It's for the better", I whisper.
But the nervousness is there, ever present.
It mocks me, it's cackle echoes for an eternity.

I feel like the stranger in a strange land.
The weird one no one cares for, and is easily ignored.
Perhaps fading into the woodwork would help.
But my anxiety tells me I don't belong, regardless.

I stay. I deal with the push-back of self.
I try to act normal. It's hard you know.
When all you want to do is go.