lonely corner in a crowded room

Speakers are blasting a familiar tune. People around me sway to the rhythm, but the smoke in the room doesn’t hide my lonely corner. I try to look amused, but my eyes betray me, dancing through the crowd to land on the door. No matter where I look, I always end up on doors.

I’m animated when someone talks to me, like a puppet that’s brought to life. I get to cosplay being alive and fun. Like I’m engaged in a very important and interesting discussion.

I only get a sudden urge to dance when the music is long behind me, like I’m trying to make up for lost time. Being that late to enjoying the party is a peculiar dysfunction of mine.

I compensate by creating my own playlist and fixing what happened in a daydream.

It burns double the energy, and I’m exhausted.