Some People Call It

[EchoSounding]

One of my more straight forward poems.

Some People Call It

All eyes on you.

Look at how they're staring.

You're gross to them

like chewed bubblegum

stuck to the bottom of their shoes.

See how they sneer.

They think just the sight of you

is something that warrants nausea

in the common human being.

You're torturing them, you know.

Your presence in the aisle

is making them all sick.

Can't you hear them laughing?

It's directed at you.

That's why they stopped

the moment you walked by.

There's something on your back.

Can't you feel it?

I know you feel it.

Toilet paper in your pants

and candy wrapper stuck to your ass.

That's why the joke's on you.

Everyone thinks your hideous and the ones that don't

just think you look like the punch line of a bad joke.

You should just hide away

and never face the light of day.

Did you lock the door on the way out?

Did you turn the oven off?

Did you make sure everything was

out of the dogs reach?

Did you bring all the dogs inside?

What if you left one outside?

What if you forgot to close the door

and the wind lets them loose?

What if a fire starts?

What if a tornado rips through town?

What if it floods

and you loose everything you can't replace?

What if your family is hurt?

What if there's an accident?

What if you lose everyone you love

and have to keep on living?

What if they just leave you

because you're too much of a burden?

What if everything in life

never gets any better than this?

What if you fail?

What if you never make a difference?

What if you really don't matter

like you've always question?

You know he's done with you.

He's decided to move on.

He's found someone better.

He's found someone new to love.

He's changed his mind about you.

He's realized he was wrong

and everything he thought about you

was merely an illusion.

He's forgotten you.

He's going to leave.

Or maybe he's hurt.

Maybe he's injured.

Maybe he's dead and you'll

spend your whole life wondering;

you will never know.

You know everything you do is wrong.

Remember that one time,

when you were three years old,

talking about the octopus and the jar

and shouted out "testicles" in Wendy's

when you really meant "tentacles".

Or that one time when in school,

you reached down to get your book,

and split your pants right up the middle.

What about the time you fell

right into the wall

when you were forced to wear high heels at that wedding.

And don't even get me start

about the one time that guy

tried to actually speak to you

and you froze, couldn't speak

and he looked at you like you were stupid.

And recently, when you went to King's Dominion

and stepped out of the car

and the mere sight of all the people

made you break down in the lot.

Those guys were there and staring

and looking at you weird

and you just happened to see them

so it made the whole thing worse.

Shall I go on...?

Some people call it anxiety

but I just call it hell.

[fauxartist]

It's a very good poem, and writing it must have felt cathartic getting out all those feelings. I'm glad your sharing here.

[EchoSounding in reply to fauxartist]

Thank you. It helps greatly and I hope it helps others feel less isolated in their struggles.

[mrmonk]

Ah, that bedeviling inner monologue...we all have a version of it. Thanks for continuing to share!

[EchoSounding in reply to mrmonk]

One of the greatest pains there is. Thank you for continuing to read.