It's almost passes by without touch.
A fleeting thought I hadn't approached.
But it comes to me instead.
Those people whispering over there, what if it's about you? Many people don't know who you are, but they know your faults.
No, they aren't talking about me.
Look! Someone's coming! What if they try to speak to you!
Shoulders hunched, eyes meet the ground, I move quicker through the swift river crowd.
You shouldn't raise your hand. You'll get it wrong, and why make more of a fool of yourself?
They know. They know your secrets. They know what you do to yourself. You deserve to go to an institution. Maybe prison. Somewhere where they lock up wackos like us.
Don't do this! You'll mess it up!
Don't drink that! You'll spill the cup!
Stop shaking your leg! You're nervous, but somebody will notice. Don't twirl that pencil either, you'll end up flinging it. And you better not claw at your arm, you don't want anyone seeing the marks!
But - I can't stop shaking and jittering.
That's a stupid excuse.
Don't get that dessert, you don't need more fat and you've already got food.
Don't take that off! You'll disturb everyone with the smell from your shoe.
But this... this is the locker room. I have to change.
Fine, but at your own risk. It's your fault if they laugh at you.
Please,
stop.
YOU ARE READING
Nobody Was Meant to See
Poetry[Trigger Warning, please be safe when reading] They aren't supposed to know. They aren't meant to read these poems that I'm writing. I've concealed them for a reason. -Shitty poems about how I feel-
