Is it because I look crazy?

Because I put on the first shirt I saw?
Or didn’t tend to my hair
before I left the apartment?

What about the fact that I come here
alone?
That I write, stay quiet and always look around?
Observe?
And always alone?

Perhaps I look like one type of stereotype
but really am a much different one?

What of me exposing my thoughts
quite obviously
quite carefree and naive
to anyone who cares to connect eyes?

Is it because you presume too much of man
and since I am different
I must be worse?
Could you not imagine
I might be better?

Does whatever I am doing and whoever I am
really make me that invisible or unimportant
to you?

All I want is just another cup of coffee.

af

(written with pen on paper, waiting for a refill)