Anomalous

 

Do you ever talk to yourself and wonder,

who you’re talking to?

Like I’m the loneliest person on earth.

I am a talker-back.

Someone who talks back to oneself.

Why?

‘Not sure.

Sometimes, I think of my brain as a friend,

The conversations we have

Like text messages.

It may seem weird.

Or even crazy. But that’s just who I am.

A writer.

A self-

Obsessed freak.

A math nerd.

And a jock.

I’m a mix of all.

Not a replica of one.

I’m Xyla.

Not the everyday girly girl you meet .

Or a typical punk.

I’m the go-between.

The one who wears sneakers with shorts and a tank.

Or boots with jeans and a shirt.

My hair’s the normal

Plain blonde.

Nothing special.

Cut at the shoulders,

Just some hair.

My cheeks aren’t sculpted

To a perfect edge and

My blue eyes

don’t shine like everybody else.

A misty pale blue,

A fog of confusion,

Caving over

A storm of chaos.

Invisible,

Unidentified would be my tag.

The girl who does it all.

How ironic,

the girl who does the most,

Never cared for,

Called,

Congratulated,

for what she’s done.

But,

Who am I to judge,

Sitting

Here as a

Talker-

Back,

with my fudge.

Overview: I’m not sure if this is a story. Actually, I think its like a story condensed to a poem or like one of character’s thoughts in a poem. It’s honestly an image of me. I wrote it last night on my desk and I guess I just poured all my emotions into it. Hope you like it!

-storyspiller