Isolation

5 people;
3 sitting, around a table
2 standing,
one wandering.

5 people;
3 Chatting, talking, laughing, eating,
2 Loving, feeling, hating, meeting.
one quietly screaming,
squealing

5 people;
I am among them.
Yet not.
I secretly slip,
away from their unintelligible plot of communication,
yet not.
I speak,
and my participation convinces them
that I haven't left my spot.

My hands in my pockets,
I step out,
of my impenetrable shell,
I stroll about.
I laugh, I cry, I yell, i shout.
But all they see is my shell;
my impenetrable shell.
“All is well
with him" they think.

They can't really see,
me,
as I stand too close to their faces,
i tap their shoulders,
invade their spaces,
But they can’t see
me.

What they send,
I don’t receive,
or perceive
what they say;
their song. I do not hear,
the music they play.

But that’s okay,
and all is well;
I’m far away, by now,
outside somewhere, somehow.
And all they’ll find,
though they can’t tell,
is my impenetrable shell.