The trigger pulled
and I feel the bullet crawling.
Slow motion,
towards me.
Barely perceptible
incremental movements,
skulking sluggishly
at my face.
I look around the room
as fear makes my heart race.
No one else sees it moving,
inching me ever closer
towards my doom.
I opened my mouth,
I spoke.
As soon as the words came out,
I froze.
It's hard to explain the way
your brain works,
when it decides
it no longer wants to,
but it was like a tidal wave
of nothing washing over me,
then freezing almost instantly,
So I'm left statuesque, my voice bereft.
My flaws shining for all to see.
The social cues offered no clues,
I was like a child again, completely confused.
Seeing contorted unamused faces,
my mind races
and it gets so far
ahead of the pack,
that it's thinking
of every single outcome.
The fears begin to stack,
like a tower of boxes,
wobbly
and precariously tilting
towards the floor.
Overthinking what I thought I saw.
What I thought the looks meant,
what I thought the sounds
in the room were trying to convey.
What they thought I was trying to say.
It's hard to explain the way
the brain tries to make sense
of the imagined outcomes of
our words as they rain.
The anxiety, in the way you feel
a sort of internal pain,
like you have done something wrong,
that you have tried to sing
but forgotten the song.
When you feel the air seep
in some mysterious force.
It's all in your head of course,
but none of this
makes the anxiety resist.
Thanks for reading
Please take a look at my new collection "Torn Pages"
100+ all new poems not shared here before.
https://tinyurl.com/KCtornpages
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