She hears the hysterical giggles
And in them she hears the awkward silence
She hears the jokes told with no shame
And in them she hears the aversion to the strange
She sees the acting meant to be mocking
And she remembers the anonymous
She sees the grins with indiscernible trembles
And she in them she sees doubt
She tastes the sweet sugar coating a story
And she tastes the bitter aftertaste of a lie
She smells the beginning of spring
And she smells the subtle smoke that steals saplings
She feels the soft skin of youth
And as she moves her finger she feels the scars
She feels the world in bliss around her
And in that bliss she feels the need to forget
She knows of the smiles and the laughs and the ecstasy of the people who live their sugar coated
lives in their homes made of slate with the stained glass windows….
And she knows she lives among them too