wordplayground

i want to ask you
who you are (and why)
but we have only 
forty-five hundred
seconds
in a room
with forty-three others
so i'll never get the chance
(only 104.65 seconds each, 
speak quickly)
i'll leave with with only a roomful
of forgotten
first impressions
that isn't what i came here for
i wanted to know
who you are

you were focused on
bigger things
and i was focused
on the desk
that wasn't behind me
so even when you spoke
(hurry, spit it out)
i wasn't paying attention
i never gave you a chance
i kept
all forty-five hundred
to myself

herded herded herded
i need
to sit down and breathe
but i
am being herded
i followed your rules
i even walked
part way 
on the sidewalk
but you 
herd me still
i need to breathe
some time and space
to discover myself
my hands shake
because 
i have difficulty
saying my own name
but i 
can easily articulate
my assigned number.

i need to stop
and wash my hands
of you
before i catch
this disease.

i can't sleep at night.
i'm terrified of sleeping at night.
so i drink endless amounts of coca-cola and coffee,
then i won't sleep at night.
instead i'll stay awake with my anxious ridden, caffeine high shaking hands.
because things happen at night,
bad things.
or if you sleep at night,
you might wake to something awful,
or at least once you did.
so it's easier to stay awake
until the sun rises at least.

if i told you how i really felt
you might see how scared i am
but i keep it to myself
(i don't want to scare you away)
i tell myself that no one
(no one) wants to hear these things.
they don't.
but i also know it's everywhere,
and someone has to listen.
i don't even want to hear it,
but it's in my head.
so i go away.
disassociate.
find safety in a glass box of my mind.
a box that someday will break,
(it's cracking already)

i am locked inside this body
this body won’t get up off the ground
this body that won’t try
and i am locked inside
i am going to die here
because this arm won’t push me up
these legs won’t stand
this mouth won’t cry for help

i could start crying just sitting here
just because the ants on the ground can't walk straight
or because the flowers are so red
because the roses are wilting and the bushes will soon be bare
because the whitewash on the bird bath is chipping
or maybe because i'm me, lost and meaningless,
with no desire to put some effort into my life
because i have only ten fingers and
i still can't write very neatly with my left hand
because nobody understands and
i don't have the energy to explain myself anymore