chaotic keyboard

Just stuff I wrote


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Discomfort

The Daily Post: Daily Prompt: Tables Turned

 

Discomfort

I hear a sound.
My brain,
which is running a few moments behind my ears,
clicks.
The sound was my name.
But I wait;
maybe I misheard.
More moments pass,
and my eyes confirm it:
they are all staring at me,
waiting for me to respond.
It’s all about me now,
but so beyond my control.
Part of me wanted this;
part of me wants to melt away,
to evaporate.
Nothing has ever burnt so fiercely
as my face does now.
I’m too caught up in myself
to properly experience the moment;
was it an accolade, some form of praise?
I’ll never really be sure.
It sounded like you were saying nice words,
but all I will remember was how
the discomfort wrung out my soul.