Static

Finally, peace. I have leveled to the place where your nervous energy does not interrupt the flow of my calm and focused essence. I am strong in my core, and you are silenced. I call you "friend," but I often wonder if my mind has mistaken that term for "master." I dance around with my bells and whistles to please your desire for distraction and laughter. I have forgotten myself in the chaos of you, and you're not even a lover. Why can you not share the space I occupy when I am not bent to your comfort zone? I am quiet, I like a heavy bass in my soul. I am not stone. I am not unfeeling if my head isn't physically reeling. The falsehood that when my conversation flows with yours is a preview into the real me is a thought you have fabricated to ease your mind for not embracing its full potential. The error in my ways is allowing myself to get caught in your web of misunderstanding. Let me be.