I'm trying so hard to concentrate,
but he words are spinning
around the page
and around my head.
Like a twister fueled
by words left unsaid.
Mouth closed,
I bite my lip.
The best way I know how
to hold this jumbled mess in.
But somewhere in the room
a foot taps incessantly.
And as I look around,
only blank faces stare back at me.
As my teeth press harder
against the soft tissue of my lips,
I feel the scars on my heart
puncture
and give in.
Giving way to unending waves
of feelings that
rush over the page.
And as I'm screaming,
writhing,
cringing in pain,
blank faces stare back at me,
all the same.
I'd apologize
for the mess I've made,
but blank faces don't feel anyways.