I stepped aside
I moved position
I got left behind
My mates produced kids
My mates produced CVs
My mates produced new strands to the corporate rhythm
I left the office
I vacated the family
I walked the mountain trail
My mates got new cars
My mates got lucky
My mates got the prize
I produced nothing
I sit and I stare
Sometimes even words are scarce in my solitude.
But what they don’t get
What the world doesn't get
I was always lonely even in a crowd
I was the silicate swan, too precious to touch
I was the sharp gravel path, too hard to touch
I was the composite explosion, too dangerous to touch.
I was untouched, aloof, alone
The stereotypical Lonely Girl.
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