I’m somewhat mercurial,
A revenant of flesh,
I drift about as if on a breeze,
Missed calls and messages on read,
I’m a periphery person,
Never in true focus,
Ever on the outside,
I’ll be a stranger to a friend one moment,
And a friend to a stranger the next,

My whims deviate on a dime,
I’m not duplicitous,
Not double-dealing,
No ill will do I intend,
My mood and soul are just pulled all over,
Dragged as if by shifting tides,
To each cardinal direction,
Wishing for solitude in one breath,
And longing for companionship the next.

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