Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2017
Two anxious women sit across the table from each other
interrupted by two dishes of food,
two glasses of water,
and six utensils resting on paper napkins.
One thinks to herself,
β€œIs this sickness?”
the other,
β€œI am the sickest.”
The sick picks up her fork and licks the tines,
preparing it for a bite that will never arrive in her mouth.
The sickest folds her arms across her chest
and pushes her dish away with her eyes
and they sit in silence
with loud eyes and trembling hands
willing their fear to disappear.
Clare Margaret
Written by
Clare Margaret  23/F
Please log in to view and add comments on poems