Poem Eight: What a nice dinner can seem... probably my darkest poem ever written. |
Perceived Reality I sit alone at a table Filled with friends and family While stress eats at me Like a starved beast let loose. I talk but I don't know what it is I say... Alas, my mind has fallen Deep to the surging depths Of perceived faith and hope Gone awry. I sift through the red sauce And pasta on my platter, Hoping someone notices That it seems like I've ate. I hold on to my thoughts For as long as I can. Yet they run wild, and With nowhere to go, They overlap and twist. Someone says my name But, when I lift my weary eyes At all my loved ones sitting, laughing, None are paying attention. My name is said again and this time I know, But there's something unnatural About the strange tone. I scan the busy restaurant With a heavy fear growing And see no one around. No eyes on me. My heart pumps blood, Streaming like a flood through My vast network of weak vessels, And I am afraid. My name is shouted, screamed with force As if someone is sneaking behind me With their lips against my ear. And I wince in pain from the raging voice, So horribly loud; tears rising with a harsh squint. ‘What?’ I scream and rise with force Throwing my chair back, it slides across the floor. Pasta pours red sauce across the table and The room goes silent while A hundred eyeballs all turn to me. Disgusted eyes everywhere pierce my being Like serrated knives, slicing then gashing And my soul turns dark in shame. I knew this day was coming... But suddenly, without any warning, I find myself in an even stranger situation. I sit alone at a table Filled with friends and family While I sift through the red sauce And pasta on my platter. Everyone chats happily and I'm joining in. Whatever just happened Could happen again... But I talk, despite not knowing What it is that I say. I try desperately to hold on to What I know to be real. This, I hope with all I have, Is truly real. My senses have failed me yet again. I've been here before… But this, I pray to a fierce God Whom I do not believe Yet fear all the same, Must be real... Oh, please, Allow me to know the difference! |