Extrovert with Chronic Pain

It seems to me there is no silence left

And yet the silence echoes through my head

For though I am alone, and quite bereft

My mind is racing, thronged with things unsaid.

No man will give me comfort. No one knows.

And lonely I suppose I must remain;

For sometimes that is just the way it goes

When every moment’s ringed around with pain.

If I cannot abandon who I am,

With flesh and bones determined to be cruel

Then I am doomed to wear the epigram:

“Unsociable.” Yes, I must seem a fool.

Yet, if I ever learned to compromise,

I would not have the strength to meet my eyes.