izz_midnight

Technically, I’m an immigrant;  

I wasn't born here. 

Technically, I’m too young, 

just shy of a year. 

Technically, I’m inexperienced, 

barely know the rudiments. 

A broken vase is worthless

To anyone but me

When they see a mess,

I see beauty

Most will turn away 

Brush it off as nothing 

But I'll run up to it

Mend it if I can 

Why does your soul cry

When your eyes meet mine?

Why does your smile fade

When my voice cascades?

How do you flow 

Through the crowd?

How do you speak

Through your tears?

I’m put in a box

Here I’ll stay, as from the edge

I was pushed away

I sit in the corner, listening to the conversation,

started like it was just breathing to them,

I want that, but my heart doesn’t yearn as much,

or maybe it yearns infinitely more.

I sit in the corner, cradling a book, 

or laptop, or phone, or nothing at all,

I sit in the corner listening to the hum of chatter,

I focus on different voices,