859. Untitled - July 05, 2015
Holding your breath
and not breathing
as if the slightest disturbance
in the air
would reveal your presence
and drawn that unwanted attack
once more.
And some days,
wondering if there was some way
to fade into the background
and not be seen
or heard
would make it easier
to avoid
the parries and jabs
that fall
in a litany
from poisonous lips.
But there is no relief
beyond hunching down
and ignoring much that is said
and staring out onto the road
as if it would reveal
the secrets of the universe
instead of the yielding void.
Sometimes
the internal metronome
of both breathing
and the occasional pause
is the only thing
that serves as a remembrance
that one is still here,
existing on this mortal plain.