It’s pitch white
Too bright to see a thing
And their laughter surrounds me
Weakening me at the knees
I can barely breathe
Every laugh they make
Is a step my feet falter to make
All that is before me disappears
My dreams, nothing but fantasies I can’t recreate
So the whispers grow stronger, as my mind regurgitates all that is before it
No soul. No hate.
And yet I force myself to move, before I am late
Family values and niceties await me
I’ll come back to face my fears later
But first, let me dress right.
I’d rather evoke envy than become prey.