Solutions

I feel a little bit out of the loop.
Not like the loop like
people murmuring things to people or
hey did you see what he did at that party last night or
omg inside joke hahahahaha
no, like out of the loop of reality.
Sometimes I'm in the middle of talking and I
suddenly shift into different perspective, watching myself
gesticulate and grin like I always do
except the person doesn't smile and I feel
like I don't know myself anymore
and nothing is right. Maybe it is just a ploy
for attention, but isn't that what
everyone does?
I feel a little bit out of the loop,
like I forget what humor feels like,
or what a smile can do if you control it right.
I feel a little bit like whoever is
plucking my strings, my puppeteer
is also confused. I rock my
head back to look up at them, a grimace on my
wooden face, and their face is like mine,
upset and unknowing.
It is all very sick.

The Rock

"It's just a rock," she said, raising a brow.
The boy picked it up anyway, from the river, turning it over a few times. "Nuh-uh! Look at it! It's one of those cool rocks - it's got something special inside."
She rolled her eyes, pocketing her hands. "It's just a rock."
He stuck his tongue out at her, wading out of the river, holding it up in the sun. It was shiny and purple, striped and fantastic. "It's beautiful!"
"Someone painted it, idiot," she muttered, yanking it from him and turning to a tree. She scraped the side against the harsh bark, and the paint wore off to be a muddy color, one that was completely average and nondescript.
He snatched it back, sticking his tongue out again. "I bet it's still got something cool inside, or no one would've painted it."
"I bet it painted itself," she chuckled, watching as he threw it at another, larger rock. It broke into a few pieces, which he examined.
The girl watched smugly as he stood. "I guess it didn't have anything after all," he laughed after a moment, turning back to her.
"I told you," she teased. "I could tell it wasn't special from the moment you picked it up. Little faker."
And then they left, and the rock truly didn't have anything at all.

Baked Goods Bandit

Like a ghost, residing outside of myself
Slowly shuffling from foot to foot,
staring into space absentmindedly
Not much goes on around me,
but I didn't quite realize that
until I stepped back.