My story

I'll try to tell,

The story of me,

As well as I can.

I'm nervous and shy,

And prefer to listen,

Yet seem to be able to talk,

To pretty much anyone.

I'm creative,

And have some ideas,

Yet I can see nothing in my mind.

I don't feel,

Like I can do anything justice anyway.

I like to read,

And I read for hours each day,

I lie on my bed,

Because it's easier to have good posture that way.

I try to tell myself,

That it doesn't matter,

What other people think of me,

But it does,

It does matter,

Their thoughts still affect me,

And I'm trying,

But not very well,

I'm scared yet seem like a rock,

Always ready to listen to a rant,

From my friends.

My friends and family are important to me,

I have no interest in romantic love.

Platonic or familial love is for me,

Because I love my family,

And I love my friends,

In my own way.

I live life my own way,

I live life differently to anyone else,

Yet in some way,

My life is generic,

Normal,

Boring,

But sometimes you want boring,

And if having a boring life means, that I can live a happy life,

Then that is okay with me.

I'll love life my own way,

With my friends beside me,

All the way.

I hope.