Sometimes it’s just a tap on the shoulder,

a quiet voice I hear in the back of my head when the rest of the world is silent.

And other times it’s a train,

roaring towards you at full speed, no time to react.

They’re staring and I can feel their eyes on me,

but none actually meeting mine.

The glances wondering who let me wear this outfit today,

or that smirk of pity acknowledging my absence of company.

Talk to me so I feel less alone,

don’t, I wouldn’t even know what to say.

Tripping over my words sounding like the fool I was trying to hide.

Is it hot in here?

Or is it just me?

-z.d.