Rambling All on My Mind

Maybe I just thought
everything
would be where I left it
when I started rambling.

Every night
I spent away,
I tortured myself
with thoughts of
laughter,
parties,
connections,
physical contact.

Was I really so
deluded to think
that people
wouldn’t just
give up on me
or forget about me
and live their lives?

I guess it takes
a special brand of conceit
to think you can
charm your way through
a decade of neglect.

And now that
the world has moved on,
it’s hard to accept
that I mostly
don’t fit in
anywhere,
and never for long.

I kept myself afloat
holding on to ghosts.

And I bet they think
the same goddamn thing
about me
and my shitty
exotic life.

Or is that more conceit?

-GD Butler

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