I am suffocating.
There are people with smiles and sweaters,
Asking me questions, judging me, pretending to care.
Sitting close around the table,
Trapped with no escape; pinned.
Looking my tormentor in the face, faking fine.
Taking hours to poke and stoke
The unyielding heap on my plate.
Bubbly mindless chatter -- external.
Dread and vile hatred -- internal.
My eyes betray my lie and show the truth I hide.
I am suffocating.
Under my own weight.
I am suffocating.
I am not better.
I am suffocating.
I am not thankful for stuffing.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC
I am suffocating.
There are people with smiles and sweaters,
Asking me questions, judging me, pretending to care.
Sitting close around the table,
Trapped with no escape; pinned.
Looking my tormentor in the face, faking fine.
Taking hours to poke and stoke
The unyielding heap on my plate.
Bubbly mindless chatter -- external.
Dread and vile hatred -- internal.
My eyes betray my lie and show the truth I hide.
I am suffocating.
Under my own weight.
I am suffocating.
I am not better.
I am suffocating.
I am not thankful for stuffing.
Thanksgiving.
A familiar kind of painful, not thankful.
