Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

Whispers are all I hear.
I can hear you talking,
whispering things,
excluding me.

Pain.
The prickle of tears behind my eyes,
but I won't let them out.
Can't show them that it hurts.

I am glass.
I am glass, cold, and clear.

Closed doors.
Whispering, berating me, and what I have done.
But how are you any better,
Converging and whispering about me?

Hypocrites.
Hypocritical of what I do,
but when you do it it's fine.

Two-faced bullies.
Throwing accusations at the weak.
Never listening to them trying to explain.

"I understand", she says.
But you don't.
You don't know the pain like I do.
You don't understand.

The shadows closing in,
the friendly look of the razor.
But I will not indulge.
I will not give in.

I am glass,
and you the angry child
throwing rocks at me.

Whispers and lingering looks.
Excluded.
Sitting thinking, "Who have I chased away this time?,
Who is here for me?"
No one.

I am glass and you cannot affect me.

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