Strange. By Gabe

I smile, but it fools no one.

My problem is,

I never know what to say.

I raise both hands

And make air quotes,

"Thank you."

I need to cheer the hell up.

I try whistling,

Impossible, as it turns out.

Like tap dancing

to the theme of Jaws.

I strike the perfect balance

between happy and miserable.

I cant believe that everyone is okay with this.

For the record,

I am not okay with this.

I end up under the bridge

I had envisaged collapsing,

watching my Greyhound speed by,

sans Mim.

I raise a hand as it passes.

And that is that.

Alone in independence.

How terribly fitting.

I'm going to sit.

Right here.

Stare at the ground.

How strange.


Words taken from Mosquitoland by David Arnold

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