Stuck in a room of staring faces;
Each second ticks by in slow motion.
Clattering plates and chomping jaws mock me.
It’s like a poison in my brain.
I see them whispering, feel them snickering
But why am I the one they choose?
Their judgments cling onto me like a Boa constrictor
Squeezing and suffocating with every move.
Confidence oozes out of my lanky fingertips
Like toothpaste coaxed out of its tube.
I begin to seep into the contours of my chair
Desperate to fade from view,
To fade from their bellowing criticisms.
Why am I the one they choose?
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About the Creator
Kayleigh Leadbetter
A little bit of this. A little bit of that.
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