i don’t get it
I repeat the words again.
And again.
And again.
I don't understand.
Why is everyone laughing?
Oh.
It's wrong.
Of course it's wrong, I knew that.
Why are they laughing?
This isn't funny.
It hurts.
Just like everything else.
And what do I do when I'm hurt?
The tears want to fall.
I want to run.
No one can see me like this.
I can't-
They can't-
I need to heal,
But I won't do it up here.
The world is a stage,
But my pride is my fear.
Why are they laughing?
I'm trying.
I'm trying.
I'm trying,
not crying.
Yet.
[insert word here]
The word, the right word, the perfect word, because it could only be one word, couldn’t it be others, no there is a perfect word, word, world, word, world, word world experience, think of the past, think of the present, what am I thinking, what words are in my thoughts, look at it, what does it look like, like an animal, like a human being, like a friend, like a, like a, well what does it say, it isn’t talking, so make it talk, make it listen, make them listen, there is a perfect word, how many is that now, eighty-seven, eighty-eight, make it more, make it talk, I think it likes the silence, silence in my brain, no thoughts so no words, can’t find the right one, it’s on the tip of my tongue, the tip of my brain, it’s crawling down the stem and touching the nerve endings in my fingertips, tap-tap-tap, like an egg cracking, out comes a thought, it might be this word, insert it, insert the right word, but no, that’s not it, think harder, think faster, there hardly is time at all, pressure, pressure, some pressure and another word, it could be this one too, but that’s hardly it at all, what is it, what is it saying, is it talking now, is he talking now, what should I say, the word, the perfect word, he isn’t talking, staring and staring and I’m staring, and I’m thinking of the perfect word, construct it, make it last and make it show, and what does it say, what does it say about me, I am thinking, I am staring, I am per- fecting, I should say something, the word, the perfect word, but more, the perfect sentence, something with every perfect word, something that is real and true to the moment, so what’s happening, is he looking, is she listening, what’s in their minds, cracking, like a thought, they want silence but I want words, three quarters done now, but there is more, isn’t there, always more, I can make it better, make it sound nice, nicer, nicest, and what is it about, what does it look like, like an animal, like a human being, like a friend, like a, like a, what should I say, what should you say, there is a perfect word, cat-scratching patty cake and there is more, hi my name is and there is more, oh I wish I was a, wish I was a little bar of soap and there’s more, and there is definitely more, so keep going, he’s talking now, and she’s listening, isn’t she, she is, so keep talking now, keep thinking, you’ll get it, won’t you, won’t you.Won’t I?
I’m embarrassed:
I'm embarrassed:
if I have food but my neighbor is hungry!
I'm embarrassed:
if I sleep peacefully but my friend can't sleep
I'm embarrassed:
if I see a poor man, but I cannot help him
I'm embarrassed:
if my enemy is happy but I envy him
I'm embarrassed:
if the old man works hard but I write poetry
If I can't help my parents, my family
I'm not embarrassed
I'm worse than death
I will die!
This moment!
A Shameful Mess
Oh god.. I've done it again, gone and put my foot in it.
My head sinks in shame, like a ship lost at sea, immersing in embarrassment.
My stomach does a little flip,
and my cheeks begin to burn a blushing red.
Eyes darting from side to side,
I try to squueze them shut,
hoping that I will be engulfed by some miraculous hole,
if I just shut them tight enough.
My voice goes meak, stumbling and fumbling over the words left to say.
Growing quieter.
Almost silent.
No more words, just humiliation.
I stand, tail between my legs.
Eyes now looking at my feet.
Toes twiddling.
Hands rubbing together in panic.
I reach for my collar bone, and start
tap-tap-tapping away,
trying to seek comfort in my hollow bones.
I remove myself.
I walk away.
Try to find a place to hide.
Hide and seek,
come find me,
for I will not return without a push.
Hushed words.
My akward clumsiness,
egg dripping down my face.
What do I do?
How do I recover,
from this disconcerted mess?
I won't.
It will haunt me at night,
while i try to find peace in the dark.
I will think of this for years to come,
despite the fact that nobody else will recall,
that moment I put my foot in it.
All I want for Christmas.
When I'm flustered or embarrassed, I cover my face being I'm feeling so many emotions, most of them centering around said embarrassment. I want to hide and make everyone forget what happened. Just get me one of those camera things from Men in Black, please. It would change my life and save my ass. Awkward conversation FLASH! Erased. Said something rude that you didn't mean to say? FLASH! Erased. Greatest. Gift. Ever.
So, y'all know what I want for Christmas this year.
Much appreciated.
I know this feeling.
It’s the color in between orange and red.
A lightly suffocating warmth overcomes my face.
I don’t say much, but listen.
I’m observing and absorbing.
I will return when my emotions subside.
You won’t know you’ve made me feel this way, but I do deliver the heaviest spoonful of your own medicine.
And it’s cherry flavor.