Social AnxietyPick at a styrofoam cup, shave off layerscrunch up piecesroll them between fingersand toss them away.Why did I come?Sit at a table alone, in the kitchenkeep company with stale chipswhile partiers shuffle into get beers from the fridge.Why can't I talk to them?Stare at the front door, supposed freedoman easy escape from the nightbut not from the fearthat I'll never be normal.