Walking into that room and having everyone looking at you.
The questions that hover in ones mind-
"Can they see it?" "Do they know?"
"Did I cover it up in time?"
Quickly pulling your sleeve down lower
Although it already covers past your knuckles
In an attempt to feel more comfortable and less miserable
But only achieving the latter.
Avoiding eye contact
But the stares pierce right through
As their mouths start moving
Judging you.
Shuffle past , as quickly as possible
Don't turn around. Don't look.
But one doesn't need sight in order to hear the words
One doesn't need sight in order know
One doesn't need sight in order to feel the stabs
As the pressure grows.
The path seems to be getting longer
As people raise their hands up to their mouths.
To make their statements, to have their say
About the person that walks before them now.
You see your destination
And hurry quickly past
You open the door and slam it behind you
Releasing an enormous gasp
"It's over now" you think to yourself
But you cast your eyes downwards
For as you look in the direction of the door
The knowledge of the future - the same thing - is all that floats around in the mind of someone that knows what they'll be going towards sooner or later.
YOU ARE READING
Jump
PoetryCold. Warm. Dark. Light. There's no difference when all you feel is numb; that's all I ever feel. The physical pain isn't pain anymore, it's relief. It's the words that hurt - only the words. But what happens when you want to use that blade...
