(Personified) Pressure

December 4, 2008
By Rebecca French French, Fairfield, CT

His cackle fills my heart with frosty terror
His smile hurts to look at
He towers over me
And peers down, smirking
I don't think I shall ever be good enough
His broad shoulders
And imposing frame
Both lead me to soft, quiet insanity
And a frightening shame
His ever-growing entourage
Of beautiful, experienced friends
I follow behind them, seeking the glow
An invitation never lends
He whispers in my ear
So soft and so close
Something I'm only meant to hear
Which frightens me the most
His eyes are squinting,
Analyzing me
He leans in slightly
I don't think I shall ever be free
Goosebumps raid my arms
My fatty knees knock
He leans back, smirking
My eyes uplift in shock
His words, so carefully chosen,
Which come from his lips,
Moist but refreshingly unimposing
He inhales, cool air sips
I don't think I shall ever forget
What he said to me that night,
Or how his eyebrow cocked
When he realized my anxious fright.
I turn my face away in disgrace
Hiding from the world my concealed
I shut my eyes tight, willing him to leave,
My eyelids become my only sheild.
His obnoxious snicker rings once more,
And he straightens up from his bending
His words reverberate, painfully true and clear,
"Honey, we all know you've been pretending."

The author's comments:
This incident is drawn from my life. At the time this was written, the pressure on me was almost too much to handle, so I wrote this poem. I hope this poem means as much for you as it does for me.

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