Deafening Silent Loner

I seem silent or strange,

But I just spend most of my days

Resting and wandering

In my home: my mind.

Ask me “Who lives in the mind of a loner?”

I explain that the residents

Of the place I call home

Are in scattered groups everywhere

From dreams to thoughts

From memories of overacting in public

While wandering in both worlds,

I'm feasting on my views of the world around me

To keep me energized of my surroundings.

The meals taste good and bad,

But I tend to add a seasoning of insanity.

I converse with myself to ease earthquakes,

But thanks to social disapproval,

I can smell wild storms of emotions and the outside world

Causing the birth of confusion and questions.

I take out a pen and paper to write like Temple Grandin

And I listen to a CD to travel to multiple worlds.

Tears come down my face

As blue as the puzzle piece of my heart.

Thoughts say to me “You have the passion of Chris Daughtry!

If you don't say your thoughts

Like MLK years ago,

No one will say it!”

Thoughts come and go

Debating to continue piling up in town

Or dying so the spirits can go into the light

Of the outside world.

Why would they listen?

Because I am speaking.