Time to go.

I'm trapped by my desire not to communicate.
Desperately, searching for
the easiest ways to avoid contact
with people who require kid gloves.

I need to use my hands
to feel conversation as real,
embracing each curve, relishing in
the roughness of discomforts unmasked.

I have a hard time playing mind games
with people who are not my friends.
I have a hard time feigning interest
in the lives of people with whom I only share
ideological dissonance.

There has to be a way away from here.