Dinner Table.
Stillness.
Calculating every inch
and counting every fine particle in the air that moves.
My shoulders are only allowed restricted movement.
My eyes must follow the emergency route.
My voice must stay unnoticed.
My footsteps, gentle. There is glass scattered on the floor.
No huffing, no puffing.
My emotions are locked behind a wall.
Seated,
to my right, is a sleeping giant
whom I shouldn’t disturb.
But there is another here who
I strongly feel to overcome.
Yes, him.
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I look across the table.
The clock ticks me a strong warning,
my eyes have committed a taboo.
They have strayed off the path in a damned curiosity.
The cat has taken the lead.
But your face is the same as mine,
you’re counting the particles too.
Both of us who undeniably look alike,
born from the same old wound.
I, from you. You, a version of me.
We are wearing the same curse,
You’re also seated in the waiting room.
My lips twitch
carelessly parting way for some words to leave.
The air begins to scream.
The lull, forced to pass by.
The cat, killed.
The clock shrieks.
Mother serves the meal.
Time to eat!
or be eaten.
- velvet c.12/06/26
