New people give me anxiety.


Upon the look on my face you’ll see a drunken excitement, but look closer and you’ll see it’s just a mask. I don’t want to be here, or don’t want to be talked to .The masses leave me aghast. Controlled by this feeling of being put on the spot, here is my name and me stuttering to make conversation, but I wish this would all stop. There’s too many people just awaiting an answer from me. Just take my name, my hobby list and let me be. Controlling my shakes and I force a smile. I’m the wallflower that sits by the window with the mask that sits for that while.


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