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.

Credits:

Words taken from Mosquitoland by David Arnold

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