solution

This room is public property
My door frame: the porch

The town's conversations are
leaking into my
bed sheets
I will get into bed tonight and
they will be
damp
with
small talk

I can't even shut my door
because
That requires interaction
Or at the very least,
Eye contact --
Nah uh, no way

I thought...
I assumed, that amongst these people
I'd feel
I'd feel, or
I'd feel
asylum

But as I
keep realizing
All people are the
same.
Always,
All where:
Boring, and boring.
Too interesting to approach
and so unique that it is dull.

They're all different to me
Because I'm as
isolated as them
And therefore boring
And depressing
And stuff

They're all talking about each other
And only listening to themselves
They're all listening to each other talking about each other to themselves

So I pretend that I'm boring
instead of appearing bored
I'm so sad I don't drink
I just think, and then I think--

I just want to cry all over everyone
And kiss up my tears
from their beautiful faces
to dampen my beautiful fears.