Not sweating, poem (173/365)

I’m sorry I’m just too
Cool, calm and collected for you
I’m sorry that I don’t yell
At obstacles
I’m sorry that I don’t scream
At insults
I’m sorry that I don’t break
At failures
I’m sorry that nothing in my body
Seems to appear to be freaking out
Actually I’m not Actually that sorry
I’m not sorry at all
That I don’t crawl
Or hide, or flail on the ground
When everything goes
Down
Because what’s the point
Of looking down
Trimming nails
Pulling hair
Grinding teeth
When it will work out
Look Up
So I am sorry
That you feel
Like I am way too
Calm, cool and collected
But stressing has
Never got me anywhere
But stressed, sick and psychotic

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