Quirks

He mostly stood in darkness,
encased within his silence.
Reluctant to reveal
the mystery of the shadows
by flicking on a switch.
In darkness, he would turn
his deepest thoughts to poetry,

and hope one day that people
would somehow find them beautiful.

And he was painfully,
acutely aware that nobody cared, 

about Instagram updates

or that he got scared, sometimes.

His voice never shook

but it tumbled; it crashed, and it wept
all of its own accord.
It had a heart of its own

that he would have asked to be confident,
if only he could have.
 

Those thoughts, when not written down,
would wander like gypsies
and he wished they would find a home,

so he could have a place to call his own.